


Out of the Deep

by riseofthefallenone



Series: Out of the Deep [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, DO NOT REPOST TO WATTPAD, DO NOT TRANSLATE INTO OTHER LANGUAGES, Destiel - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, LOADS OF ANGST LIKE WOW, M/M, Mermaids, Mermen, Minor Character Death, Present Tense, Swearing, Telepathy, bottom!Dean (because Cas is physically incapable of bottoming), humans being douchebags to merfolk, merfolk, not going to be like Twist and Shout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 488,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riseofthefallenone/pseuds/riseofthefallenone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep.</i>
</p><p>It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep.</p><p>Castiel should have listened better.</p><p>(<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906">Dean's Drabbles</a> - certain scenes from Dean's POV.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Light-beds

**Author's Note:**

> Here are the first 14 pages of my Supernatural: Merfolk AU. As a thank you and to celebrate hitting 50 followers over on [tumblr](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Since it's still a WIP (edit: EVERYTHING IS COMPLETED), this "chapter" might get tidbits edited/added by the time I post "chapter 2". I'll be sure to note in the next segment if any changes are made in this one. I loathe updating like this, but I really did promise some of this writing as a thank you. Sorry if that ticks any of you off.

It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. 

_Never go near the light-beds._

_The two tails on their floating-reefs dip hands of woven metals into the sea. They are merciless and indiscriminate. They will pluck from the light-beds any fish or fin-kin who get tangled in their fingers and drag them up into the steady-blue – to a place above the waves where you cannot breathe._

_Stay in the deep, where the steady-blue’s bright-pearl cannot cast her touch. Stay in the deep, where the metal hands cannot reach. Stay in the deep and don’t go near the light-beds._

The light-beds are a thing of beauty. They are entrancing to the eye, hypnotic to any creature foolish enough to swim too close. Legend says the lights that mesmerize are the souls of the lost – those taken by the two-tails – calling to fin-kin. But their allure can be explained through science; naturally occurring shine-stones in the reef catch the rays of the bright-pearl and reflect through the waves to create millions of dancing colour-arcs. 

Fin-kin stay far away from the shallows where the light-beds lay. These are the hunting grounds of the two-tails. The two-tails and their floating-reefs come from the parts of the world where the sea floor rises above the waves. They seem capable of swimming, though not nearly as gracefully as the fin-kin can. They splash and struggled through the water, disrupting the flow of the sea. The two-tails never swim farther out than the sand-beds where the water is uncomfortably warm. The sand-beds lay beyond the light-beds.

_Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep._

x

Even now, the mind-voices are repeating the stories and warnings to the newest batch of hatchlings. From this distance they are soft and difficult to hear unless focused upon. The ever present song of the fin-kin is dwindling into silence. Castiel dislikes the empty space in his mind where the many voices of the fin-kin are dying out the farther they swim from the colony. It is disconcerting to have so much quiet in his mind.

He hesitates, looking back, and laments it immediately as he gets left behind. His nest-brothers are fast swimmers, their slight forms sliding through the currents easily. Castiel is fast too, but his wariness to swim beyond the colony borders where only silence awaits lends pause to his movements. Even his nest-brothers are not speaking in the quiet. They are purposefully suppressing the usually unconscious chirping clicks of their echolocation. They don’t want to risk someone hearing them. 

_(We should turn back!)_ He calls to them, flicking his tail nervously as he struggles to catch up. To turn back now, without them, would be cowardice and he does not want to be left alone along the border-reefs. 

Neither Gabriel, Lucifer nor Balthazar respond. Balthazar does slow though, the fans along his tail flaring to reduce his speed. A brief noise of scorn flashes through their minds and Lucifer glares over his shoulder, clearly irate that Castiel is slowing them down. Gabriel’s laughter drowns out any complaint he might make. They are too far from the colony to be heard now. 

Lucifer leads the way, following the slope of the sea floor. The higher they climb, the warmer the water gets. It makes Castiel’s gills flutter wildly and he clenches his long fingers into a fist, squishing the webbing between them. Balthazar takes his hand and tugs him along, slanting one of his ridiculous smirks at him in a show of confidence. 

The steady-blue’s bright-pearl cuts through the murk of the deep. Her shine pains their eyes and they stop by an outcropping of rock where they can adjust. The glow that marks the edges of their fans and dances in designs along their tails dims in the light and Castiel briefly panics, wondering if it will return when they dive back into the dark.

Gabriel digs the pointed tip of his tail into the sand, his colours blending seamlessly with the granules. He lifts his face to the waves far above their heads, and Castiel can see his pupils contract with the change of the light. It is the first time he realizes that his nest-brother’s eyes are the same shiny colour as the many round disks often found in the wreckage of the two-tail’s moving reefs. He quickly looks to Lucifer and Balthazar, curious. 

Balthazar is watching him, his head tilted to the side. The black has receded enough for Castiel to see a sliver of colour like the steady-blue. Lucifer’s eyes are similar, but the blue is darker like the steady-blue when the bright-pearl is leaving. He wonders if his eyes have a different colour too. 

_(Like mother-sea.)_ Balthazar offers, and all his nest-brothers look to him. His shoulders raise and fall in a shrug and the fan spanning the length of his spine ripples with the movement. 

Castiel did not realize he had been speaking his thoughts, but is thankful anyway.

Lucifer rolls his eyes and pushes off from the rock he had curled around. The command to follow is unvoiced. His body arcs above them and Gabriel corkscrews his tail, raising a cloud of sand as he bursts after him. Balthazar grins at Castiel again, baring the fine points of his teeth before dragging him away from the rock face. 

The closer they come to the surface, the slower they swim. It is a several leagues before they reach the jagged edges of the light-beds. Gabriel is the first to arrive. He is smaller than his nest-brothers, even though he is second oldest in their group. He slides past Lucifer with a quick burst of speed and draws up quickly to hide behind the crimson coral that marks the edges of the light-beds. 

Castiel notices that Lucifer’s tail is almost the same colour as the coral. It is tracked with lighter shades, going nearly as yellow as Balthazar’s tail in some places. He realizes that Balthazar and Gabriel’s tails closely match the colours of their hair, though patterned with varying hues. When he and Balthazar join them, he takes a moment to examine his own tail and is startled at seeing in full light his own colouring. 

This is his first time out of the deep. Here in the light of the bright-pearl, Castiel can see their colours are vibrant. In the depths of the colony, colours are dull. The only light in the colony comes from their own glow and the very tiny creatures living on the cliff walls. 

His tail is mostly black, highlighted with swirling patterns of blue. Castiel belatedly realizes they are the same designs his glow takes when in the dark. He traces them delicately with the tip of his finger, marveling at the details he can see. 

Amusement that isn’t his own comes across his mind and Balthazar tugs his hand to get his attention. They settle alongside their nest-brothers, curled against the crimson reef. Gabriel takes his other hand and grabs for Lucifer’s. It is how they decided to ensure that none of them will swim off unknowingly. Castiel’s heart beats hard inside his chest, nervous and curious and wondrous and too many emotions for him to stop and figure out. 

As one, they slide forward and peer over the edge. 

The waters are choked with fish of breeds that never swim into the deep, covered in colours startling and marvelous. Colour-arcs fill the spaces where fish do not. Castiel wonders if the colour-arcs would feel different on his scales or the flesh of his chest and arms, if he would be able to taste them. The shine-stones sparkle along the sea-floor. Except they do not shine in the shadows of the floating-reefs. 

Castiel can count three from where they hide. He can see their woven metal hands dragging through the water, stirring up the sand in their wake. Even in the warmth from the bright-pearl, he feels cold from the sight of them. He is thankful they are too far to hear the fish screaming when the metal hands are pulled above water. 

_(Anna wants a shine-stone.)_ Gabriel reminds them and Castiel reflexively tightens his hold on his nest-brother’s hands. He is scared of allowing any of them to cross over the crimson reef, even though he knows they’ve come for a gift for their nest-sister. 

_(Don’t be such a hatchling, Castiel. You’re a warrior now. Act like it.)_ Lucifer chides as Castiel’s fear filters to all of them. 

He is immediately contrite. His worry over coming so close to the surface is making him lose his grip on the kin-connection. He hasn’t been a warrior long, his hair only having been cut short in the warrior style once. To allow his emotions to reach his nest-brothers is the error of a child and Castiel is too old for such mistakes. He closes off that part of his mind, determined to keep his feelings to himself. 

Lucifer pulls himself over the edge with his free hand. They keep their hold on eachother as they inch farther down the other side. Balthazar keeps them anchored, never letting go of the coral. Castiel closes his eyes and doesn’t watch as they dangle Lucifer closer to the light-beds. Lucifer is the longest of them and he can easily reach the bottom with his tail. Castiel can hear the scratch of Lucifer’s tail point digging into the sand, trying to loosen a stone. 

That’s when Castiel hears the song. Balthazar jerks and almost lets go of the coral. Gabriel and Lucifer have gone still, but their surprise flashes through Castiel’s mind. The song doesn’t play in their heads like fin-kin usually sing. It rides the currents, rising and falling mournfully like the call of the whales. 

The wordless notes are meant to convey loneliness and desire for companionship. All it does is inspire panic and settle a heavy weight of dread in Castiel’s stomach. A tone running beneath it all screams at them to swim as far and as fast as they can and never look back because the song sounds _wrong._

Lucifer streaks past, dragging Gabriel with him. Castiel’s tail beats painfully against the coral as he surges after them to follow. The only one to hesitate is Balthazar. He feels the drag on his arm and looks back. Balthazar isn’t actively swimming and is being pulled along by his nest-brothers. He’s staring toward the light-beds, but anything he might be feeling is hidden from Castiel. 

None of them stop swimming until they can no longer hear the song. Their gills ripple wildly along their necks and Castiel’s muscles burn. He’s never swam so hard or so fast in his lifetime. They stop to catch their breath near the rock face from earlier. Balthazar’s face is turned toward the surface, his expression curious.

 _(Who do you think it was?)_ He asks. 

Lucifer looks at him sharply. _(Forget it.)_

Castiel tries not to show his nest-brother’s that he is trembling, but all his fans flare at the thought of the song. _(We should never have come here.)_

Gabriel slaps Castiel on the shoulder and grins, his hair haloing his head in a cloud of soft brown. It had been his idea to come to the light-beds in the first place to get a present for Anna. _(Don’t worry about it! At least tell me you got a stone, Luci?)_ He glances at Lucifer, who frowns at the nickname but holds out his hand and a shine-stone is nestled in the center of his palm.

 _(Good! Now we can head back.)_ Gabriel nudges Castiel again, prodding him away from the rocks. 

Again, Balthazar is reluctant to leave. Lucifer places himself at the rear of their group, glaring hard at his nest-brother whenever Balthazar looks back. Castiel only does once. 

When they dive back into the dark of the deep, he is more than relieved when the only light comes from their own natural glow. The voices and the proper songs of the fin-kin are a balm to the unsettled emotions of their trip and Castiel sinks happily into their comfort as they return to the colony.

x

It is Michael, the oldest of their nest and colony leader, who shakes Castiel awake. The fans on the sides of his head are spread aggressively wide. His glow is bright and almost painful to look at. Michael is angry and his other hand is resting on the hilt of his sword.

 _(Where is Balthazar?)_ He demands. Michael is angry, but he is worried.

Castiel doesn’t have an answer. He looks about wildly, towards the ledge on the cliff wall where Balthazar had settled earlier to sleep. It is empty. He should see the dim outline of Balthazar’s sleep-glow, but there is nothing. Other fin-kin are waking, leaning over their shelves or swimming out into the open trench of the colony to get a better look. He can see Gabriel gently twisting down into the space behind Michael. Anna joins him. 

Lucifer rises up from below. He touches Michael’s shoulder. _(What’s wrong?)_

 _(Balthazar didn’t show up for his sentry duty.)_ Michael snaps, not taking his eyes off Castiel. _(You two are close. Where is he?)_

Castiel shakes his head. _(I don’t know. He went to sleep and that was the last I saw of him. I swear it.)_ He pushes his honesty through the kin-connection.

Lucifer frowns and spares a brief look to Gabriel. They both raise their voices in song. Michael joins immediately and Castiel’s mind quakes as gradually the colony wakes and they all sing. Only one question, one word, rings through the trench. It is _(Balthazar!)_

Castiel searches with his nest-brothers and sisters. He never misses the looks Gabriel and Lucifer keep sharing. It confuses him until he notices that Anna is carrying her shine-stone. He remembers Balthazar’s near obsession with the wrong-song from the light-beds. His insides feel cold, his chest tight and something feels lodged in his throat.

He fetches his sword from his sleep-shelf. No one pays him much attention. Many other warriors are already carrying their weapons. Some are whispering under the call for Balthazar that his disappearance is at the hands of another colony. Castiel thinks they are wrong, and he carefully guards those thoughts. 

No one knows that they went to the light-beds. Not even Michael has questioned Anna’s shine-stone. There are so many places shine-stones can be found that are not forbidden. But Anna wanted one from the light-beds. _(Knowing where it comes from is all the fun in having one.)_ Is how Anna explained her desires.

Castiel swims to the lip of the trench, continuing to call for his nest-brother. He does not like lying to the colony. But it would not be only him in trouble if their trip to the light-beds was discovered. Castiel does not want to be the one to get Lucifer and Gabriel in trouble. They cannot come with him this time. Lucifer and Gabriel are members of the colony council. Michael would notice them missing sooner than he would ever notice Castiel’s disappearance. 

No one looks at Castiel twice when he slips out into the open ocean. He can see other fin-kin searching the rocks too. His presence here is understandable. He waits until he is sure no one is watching him before he forces his glow to dim. It will be harder for him to find his way without the glow or his echoes. Castiel cannot take the chance that someone will notice. He swims as quickly as he dares.

The light-beds were several dozen leagues away. The trip there and back had taken them all morning. Alone and in the dark, it would take Castiel most of the night. He swims a few leagues before allowing his lights to return. He concentrates on being even brighter, lighting the rocky sea floor. He refrains from using his echoes still.

Castiel is exhausted when he reaches the light-beds. He is certain Michael will have noticed his absence by now. He wonders if Lucifer or Gabriel will explain. He settles against the crimson coral to catch his breath, looking out onto the light-beds for any sign of his nest-brother. The wrong-song rings desolately through the empty sea.

The bright-pearl is gone from steady-blue. In her place is her sister, the pale-pearl. Her light is weak, the water is dim and free of colour-arcs. He is thankful that the two-tails floating-reefs are gone. But he does not see Balthazar. The light-beds are wide and span many leagues. Castiel realizes he will have to leave the safety of the crimson coral to search its entirety. He might even have to swim to the other side. No fin-kin has ever been to the other side. Beyond the light-beds is where the two-tails and their floating-reefs go when night falls. 

Steeling himself, Castiel grips his sword tight and throws himself from the coral. His fans flare as his heart beats painfully in his chest. He sinks to the floor of the light-beds and his glow reflects from the shine-stones. He swims close to the ground, skimming over the rocks and sand. He calls for Balthazar with his mind and he risks a song. The notes of his song do not echo back to him. The size of the light-beds is daunting. 

He spends hours searching. The pale-pearl dips out of sight in steady-blue, growing lighter as bright-pearl returns. Schools of fish are returning to the grounds, drawn by the colour-arcs. Castiel pays them no attention. The fish don’t understand his song and their minds are too simple to comprehend his questions.

The only response he gets from the sea is the wrong-song. It repeats itself over and over. It frightens him and he raises his voice above it. 

Balthazar never answers.

Castiel is tired. His muscles ache and his sword is heavy in his hand. His throat is sore and raw from his singing. He feels like he has swam from one end of the light-beds to the other, but he knows there is still much for him to check. He still hasn’t ventured towards the other side. It is from that direction that the wrong-song comes.

The first of the two-tails’ floating-reefs arrives. Castiel gives it a wide berth, watching from a distance when the woven metal hand crashes into the sea. It is not long after its appearance that he realizes his folly. If Balthazar came to the light-beds because of the wrong-song, he would not avoid it like Castiel is. Balthazar would have gone straight for it.

He curses himself for his idiocy and turns, swimming hard for the other side. His spreads wide the fans on the sides of his head, straining to catch the song so he can find its origin. It sends shivers down his spine. Another floating-reef coasts over the waves a long distance to his right, trailing its own hands. He continues to call for Balthazar.

_(Cassie?)_

Relief floods through Castiel at the first tentative touch to his mind. He’s never been away from any fin-kin for so long before. 

_(Where are you?)_ He asks, coming to an abrupt halt and looking around.

_(I… The song, Cassie. I should have forgotten it like Lucifer told me to.)_

_(I know, Balthazar. We can talk about that later. Where are you?)_

_(Oh, I don’t know. A cave? It… I followed the song. Then there was a cave-in or something? I… Don’t laugh at me, Cassie, but I hit my head.)_

Castiel doesn’t laugh. He tunes into the wrong-song again and raises a cloud of sand when he kicks off after it. It’s louder and the water practically vibrates with it. _(I’m coming to find you.)_

_(Who’s with you?)_

_(Here? No one. But the whole colony is looking for you. Michael is… worried.)_

_(He’s pissed.)_

_(Very.)_

_(What time is it?)_

_(Bright-pearl is rising.)_

Castiel has come to the edge of the other side. A steep wall of rock rises from the sea-floor, rolling up to the waves. He doesn’t waste time wondering how the floating-reefs get over it. It’s just speculation where they come from. He ignores all of it and follows the song. It’s almost deafening by now, and his side fans fold together and flatten against the sides of his head. He doesn’t need to strain to hear it anymore.

When he finds the source, Castiel doesn’t know what it is he has found. He stops and touches the outcropping from the rock wall. It doesn’t feel the same as the other rocks and Castiel jerks his hand away. A part of the rock is flat and smooth, recessed a little more than the rest. The song is loudest directly above the flat-rock. He touches the flat part gingerly, and it feels like the metal of his sword.

He taps at the metal-rock, curious.

_(Cassie, that you?)_

_(You heard that?)_ He taps again. This time there are responding taps.

_(Congratulations. You’re quite the little hunter.)_

_(Finding this was the easy part, Balthazar. I have no idea how to get you out.)_

Castiel feels along the edges of the metal-rock. He digs the point of his sword into the small crevice. It scrapes against it loudly, violently. Balthazar curses at the sound and Castiel winces. He tried to press the point in at several places. None of them have any give. He moves to the sea floor and digs at the sand. It clouds the water around him and he ignores it, working the edge of his sword under the flat-rock. 

It requires a bit of squirming against the sand to fit his shoulder under the hilt of the sword. Castiel presses his tail hard against the sea floor, the powerful muscles coiling and pushing. He grits his teeth against the scraping noise and shoves hard. The blade bows slightly and Castiel spares a moment of worry that it might break. Then the flat-rock shifts with another painful grating sound. It only moves a little, barely more than the width of a finger. 

Balthazar’s exuberance fills his mind. _(Whatever you’re doing keep doing it, Cassie!)_

His fingers scrabbled under the opening, gripping the flat-rock. It rises another few hand spans with their combined efforts. Castiel abandons his sword after that to grab at the flat-rock with both hands. It is heavy and the edges dig into his fingers painfully. 

_(Can you fit?)_ Castiel asks, struggling to raise the flat-rock higher.

 _(I can try… Don’t let it drop on me.)_ The end of Balthazar’s tail twitches through the opening. He tries to keep helping Castiel hold it up while he wiggles his way out. 

Castiel cries out in surprise when Balthazar is no longer helping to hold the flat-rock up. It jerks him down a hand-span and his muscles scream, his fingers ache, and he knows he can’t hold it up for much longer. He knows he’s begging Balthazar to move quickly, but his nest-brother is still worming his waist underneath. Balthazar’s tail kicks up a cloud of sand as it beats against the sea-floor. 

With one final push, Balthazar slides out of harm’s way. At his jubilant cry, Castiel lets go of the flat-rock. It slams down violently, slicing through the water. Castiel sags against it, relief flooding his limbs. Balthazar wraps him in a hug, grinning widely and crushing him against his chest.

Their moment is short lived. 

Castiel is reaching for his sword when the shadow falls across them. Simultaneously, they look up and Balthazar grips Castiel’s free hand painfully hard. They shrink back against the flat-rock as one of the two-tails’ floating-reefs drifts overhead. Castiel is holding his breath while Balthazar is taking sharp little gasps, bordering on hyperventilating. 

_(We need to move.)_ Balthazar hisses, tugging at Castiel’s hand. _(We need to move now!)_

 _(Not yet.)_ Castiel is not curious about the two-tails. He does not want to get any closer than he has to. Too many stories and legends have built them up as monsters in his mind. He’s never seen one in person and he has no desire to. 

His training as a warrior of the colony is telling him not to make a target of himself by moving. By moving, they could actually draw attention to them. Neither he nor Balthazar knows anything about the floating-reefs. For all they know, the two-tails could be watching them now. Castiel refuses to allow any course of action that could bring further danger down upon them or the colony should they be followed. 

Balthazar has been a warrior longer than Castiel has. He is willing to allow him a little leeway in his reaction. A bruise is mottled purple, black and blue, colours his forehead. It extends under his hairline and Castiel’s head hurts sympathetically just looking at it.

A large hook crashes into the waves next to the floating-reef. Castiel reflexively tightens his hold on the hilt of his sword. Balthazar drags him around the edge of the outcropping of not-rock, placing it between them and the hook. They watch over the top as it sinks to the light-beds and settles in the sand. Belatedly, Castiel realizes that the wrong-song has stopped.

 _(Cassie, we should go. We NEED to go.)_ Balthazar tugs his hand again, trying to catch his eye. _(We’ll keep to the rocks. Please. I was trapped in that wrong-cave and I’m not going to be caught by two-tails.)_

Castiel nods, slowly. Technically, Balthazar is of higher status than he. He is the youngest of the nest and is of a lower rank warrior. If Balthazar gives him an order, Castiel has no choice but to follow. He still thinks it is foolish to move but he follows as Balthazar presses himself to the sand and slithers along the edge of the light-beds, moving away from the floating-reef. 

They barely move a few tail-lengths when Castiel hears another splash. He looks over his shoulder and warily eyes the shell being lowered toward the outcropping. It is attached to a twisted something Castiel thinks looks a lot like their ropes of kelp. The shell snaps around a protuberance on the not-rock outcropping. 

The water echoes with a painful grating noise as the not-rock is pulled away from the real-rock. Even Balthazar stops and watches with wide eyes as it swings free from the sea floor and is pulled up and out of the waves. Surprise and horror washes through the kin-connection and Castiel is unsure if it is his own or Balthazar’s. If their escape had taken a few minutes longer, Balthazar could have been lost to the world above the sea. The thought terrifies them both and as one they turn and swim away.

Balthazar insists that Castiel return to the colony first. He insists that Castiel will be in less trouble if he arrives alone and claims to have been searching for Balthazar beyond the trench. Castiel refuses. He has been gone too long to be able to use that as an excuse. His absence would have been noticed by now and he would have likely been called for too. A lack of response from him could only have indicated that he was no longer within the colony’s territory. 

Their return is met with relief and rage. Balthazar is immediately escorted to the healer and Michael. Castiel is left to explain what happened to Raphael, another colony leader from a different nest. To his surprise, Lucifer and Gabriel come forward with explanations of their own. Raphael’s anger is palpable. Castiel can almost taste it in the water. 

He is dismissed with the strict orders to remain on his sleep-shelf until he is called upon by Michael. Castiel leaves Lucifer and Gabriel, both righteously indignant of Raphael’s handling of their nest-brother, to deal with Raphael. They are all strong willed, but their debates will be pointless once Michael becomes involved.

Castiel is tired and he finds it hard to care about much beyond that. His sleep comes fast once he has settled in the shallow groove of his shelf. He dreams of steady-blue.

x

Castiel does not see the light-beds again for several seasons after that. He has devoted himself to serving the colony and his superiors, trying to make up for breaking colony law, twice. His hair has been cut many times and he has climbed the ranks of warriors. He is in charge of his own small garrison now.

The colony is at war. Their territory is being encroached upon by a new group of fin-kin. They are fast and strong, with many characteristics different from Castiel’s own family. He has not lost any of his nest-brothers or sisters, yet, but many members of the colony have died to defend what little of the sea they call their own. 

The trench is a prime location. There are many choice hunting grounds nearby and deep at its base lies a smoldering volcanic vent where they forge their weapons and tools. There is plenty of room for both colonies. But these new fin-kin refused the offer to join them and share the trench as one colony and they were the first to spill blood, declaring war over the land.

Castiel is leading his garrison on a mission. Scouts have returned with word of the enemy fin-kin striking out toward the light-beds. His orders are to investigate and intercede should the enemy do anything that could bring the two-tails down upon their home. Castiel wonders if these new fin-kin know of the legends, if they sing the same songs to their hatchlings before bed. 

Their colony does not share an immediate kin-connection with these new fin-kin. They choose to speak with sounds from their mouths in a rough, guttural language that Castiel does not understand. He has never heard them sing. He knows that, if pressed, they can communicate with their minds if they open themselves to the connection. He has not yet met one on the field of battle who is willing to do so. 

Castiel rests his garrison at the rock-face he and his nest-brothers once sat upon all those seasons ago. Like then, he inspects the true colours of his garrison with a hint of wonder at the vibrant shades and differences from one fin-kin to the next. None of the members of his garrison are from his nest, so none share designs similar to his own.

His second in command, Uriel, is dark-skinned and dark-scaled. He stares stonily up into the brightening waters with his ever-permanent frown. The ribs of his side-fans are constantly spreading and flattening, listening to the currents. Slowly, he turns his gaze to Castiel. _(I don’t hear anyone nearby. How close are we going to get to the beds?)_

 _(As near as need be.)_ Castiel responds, giving the signal for the others to follow. They fall into an easy formation as they continue the climb. 

They are seven strong and armed with their swords and several daggers filed to wicked points. Castiel hopes no blood will need to be spilled this day. He hates killing fin-kin, even if they look like no fin-kin he has ever seen before. He knows this is nothing to care about. There are many different breeds of fish who swim in mother-sea. It is inconceivable that all fin-kin look similar. 

Castiel’s garrison crests the crimson coral of the light-beds. Bright-pearl rests high in steady-blue and the water is alight with colour-arcs. He takes a moment to appreciate the beauty, unchanged like when he had seen it the first time. He sends a silent thank-you to mother-sea that the wrong-song is not ringing through the waves. 

There are no other fin-kin in sight. Castiel sends two groups of three off in either direction. Uriel is in charge of one, Hester – a female with a surprisingly strong will – in charge of the other. Castiel settles against the coral and opens his mind to theirs. He will relay messages between the two teams to ensure everyone stays in contact.

Their orders are to remain outside of the light-beds and ensure that none of the enemy fin-kin enter it. It is a difficult task, considering the ridiculous size of the light-beds. Anna’s garrison should – Castiel hopes – be covering another section of the coral much farther along than where he is stationed. Her garrison had left the night before. 

Both of Castiel’s teams have checked in with no signs of the other fin-kin. Hester’s group has made kin-connection with a division of Anna’s garrison. No members of Anna’s teams have seen even a glimpse of the fin-kin they were sent to keep away. 

Castiel digs the point of his dagger into the coral, carving designs into it. He is bored and annoyed. The scouts could have been wrong in their interpretation of the fin-kin’s actions. It is entirely possible that they were never headed to the light-beds in the first place. Not that Castiel would ever say anything against Raphael’s orders. He is a good soldier and will follow his orders to the letter. Though that doesn’t mean he won’t complain privately about how much of a waste of time this is. 

There are a few floating-reefs above the light-beds again. Castiel checks on them every few minutes. He alternates between scanning the open ocean behind him and the descent into the deep and out into the light-beds. He has as much luck as his teams at spotting any of the other fin-kin. The currents ripple with the movement of fish, but there is nothing even remotely close to the size of the fin-kin nearby. 

Castiel spends a few long hours lounging against the coral. Uriel reports that his group is splitting up, leaving one member behind where the kin-connection is growing weak. From there, the rest will continue their search. Castiel gives his consent and sends word to Hester’s, informing her she should do the same, even if they end up overlapping with Anna’s garrison. 

It is while he is watching out into the light-beds that Castiel hears a solid thrumming sound. It surprises him and he immediately draws his sword, looking about for the source of the noise. A creaking groan overlaps the pulsing thrum and he twists off of the coral, staring down into the deep and out along the edges of the light-beds. Belatedly, he looks out into the open ocean and up at the waves to the approaching floating-reef. 

This floating-reef is smaller than the ones Castiel is used to seeing over the light-beds. A small part of his mind thinks it’s close to the same size as the one he and Balthazar had been close to. The thrumming that makes the water and Castiel’s head throb stops and it shakes him from his slight stupor. The floating-reef is dragging another of the odd shaped hooks behind it, letting it sink deeper into the sea.

He dives over the coral, pressing himself to the other side to shield himself from sight. Castiel sinks to the sandy floor of the light-bed, ignoring how the edges of the shine-stones dig into his tail. He barely suppresses the flinch at the hollow thud of the hook catching on the other side of the coral. The weirdly pointed end of the floating-reef can be seen over the edge of the coral, but it moves no further into the light-beds. 

Castiel sends words of warning to his garrison, telling them not to return. He ignores Uriel’s protests, ordering him and the others to stay away. It will be difficult for Castiel to escape notice if he is worrying about the garrison as well. He returns his sword to the loop of kelp around his waist and keeping his movements fluid and calm, he drags himself along the coral and away from the floating-reef. 

He never takes his eyes off that pointed-round end. He hears a few splashes and there are ripples of sound that he doesn’t recognize in the water. They’re like pulses of movement similar to thrashing fish. Castiel wonders if the two-tails are dropping more of those rope-shells from before, or if it’s another fake-cave or one of their woven metal hands. He doesn’t investigate, but pauses all the same – just in case.

There is movement out of the corner of his eye. Something long and black is moving at the edge of the coral. It expels bubbles. Castiel’s breath catches in his throat. His gills and fans flare in surprise and his fingers tighten painfully where they grip the coral. Instinctively, the ribs of his fans retract, flattening against his tail and back as he tries to make himself less noticeable. He presses into the coral and sand and prays to mother-sea that they do not see him.

There are two-tails in the ocean. 

Their faces are flat blocky and flat. Tubes, thick like some sea plants, sprout from under their flat faces, wrapping around to their bulky backs. Bubbles issue in periodic hissing streams from where the tubes connect to their faces. Their hands are pale and white, like Castiel’s, but their bodies are covered in black. Their odd tails scissor in the water, kicking their flopping webbed fins to propel them slowly forward. 

One is significantly longer than the other. Castiel thinks it might be a male. The other is smaller, with more delicate limbs and curves like the females of his colony. The female’s hair is golden and braided. It trails behind her as she swims. The male has hair like Gabriel, longer than a warrior’s cut and floating around his head in a darker-brown cloud. 

It’s his warrior training that takes note of all the little details. This is the first that anyone in the colony currently has actually seen, up close like this, a two-tail. Everything they know has been passed down from stories that grew old ages ago. What Castiel sees today will greatly expand upon their knowledge of the two-tails. Granted, that’s only if he escapes. 

Uriel and Hester can feel Castiel’s panic. Their questions and requests for updates and orders are a constant stream in his mind. They only stop when he hisses at them _(Two-tails!)_

Castiel watches the two-tails from the corner of his eye. He won’t move. He can’t move, for fear that they will see him. He can only hope that the light-beds are enough of a distraction for them to not notice the stretch of black and cream against the crimson coral and sand. Castiel prays fervently to mother-sea for her protection. 

The male two-tail is holding a long rod with a pointed tip. He waves it around in front of him, gesturing out at the light-beds with his face tilted towards the female. The female is gesturing too and the hissing streams of bubbles increases during the exchange. It occurs to Castiel that they may be communicating and he wonders if they have something similar to the kin-connection too. 

It’s a stupid idea. A truly foolish idea. But once the thought is there, Castiel can think of nothing else. He reaches out with his mind like he would if he wanted to speak privately to a member of the colony. He reaches for the thoughts of a creature he’s not sure will even be able to hear him. There could be nothing but silence, like with the forced quiet of the enemy fin-kin. 

Castiel can sense the male. He can’t read his thoughts without them being first projected, but he can feel the presence of his mind and a thin layer of emotions. He prods at it, gently touching but giving nothing of himself, no words or feelings. 

The male jerks violently at the first brush of Castiel’s contact. He twists wildly in the water, looking everywhere and Castiel immediately withdraws. It’s apparent the two-tails could feel the touch and he curses himself for even listening to the stupid foolish idea. His curses turn profane when the male stills with his blocky flat face turned towards him. 

Castiel has been seen. He stares back, unblinkingly, but doesn’t move. The female is touching the male’s shoulder trying to get his attention, but she stops moving when she sees him too. It’s a standoff. Castiel tells himself he won’t move unless the two-tails come toward him or look away. The moment they do that, he’ll take off over the coral and straight out into the ocean. He won’t return to the colony until he is certain that the two-tails are not following him. 

The movement is slow, but Castiel tenses when the female brings her hands to her waist. He turns his head fully towards them, eyes wide so as not to miss a thing. She pauses for a moment before continuing. Her white fingers pull at a cube attached to a rope around her hips. Castiel bares his pointed teeth and hisses a soft warning when she pulls it away from her body. She moves even slower as she lifts the block to her flat face. 

Castiel can hear a clicking noise, not unlike his own echolocation, but nothing is happening. He tilts his head slightly to the side, his fans spreading to catch the sound of the snapping. The noise increases momentarily when he moves. 

_(Castiel?)_ Uriel’s voice echoes in his mind and reminds Castiel of their mission.

_(I couldn’t get away before they came in sight. They’re watching me. The first chance I get, I’ll swim. Uriel – if anything happens to me, you take the garrison to Anna and fill her in if Hester’s team hasn’t already. Am I understood?)_

_(Yes, sir.)_

Uriel is good at following orders. Castiel knows he will do as he is told. He tells him and Hester to meet at the rock face from earlier and to take a longer route to it. Dive into the deep and approach from there if they have to. If he escapes – and Castiel can only hope he will – then he will meet them there.

The female has drifted away from the male. She is sinking closer to the sea-floor, but remaining the same distance away. Castiel knows that he can outswim any two-tail any day, but he keeps an eye on her all the same. His eyes dart from the female to the male and he frowns. The male has moved, but not from his location. He has drawn the thin rod up to his shoulder and the sharp tip is pointed at Castiel. 

He realizes too late that it is a weapon. 

Castiel is sure that he scrapes his hand on the coral when he scrambles at it. He might have bruises on his tail too from how hard it beats against the sea floor when he kicks off in a flurry of movement as he swims away from the two-tails. A cloud of sand rises, blurring him from their sight. Castiel spreads his fans aggressively anyway, hissing and snarling. 

There’s a soft whumph of sound and Castiel’s arm jerks suddenly. He feels no pain and ignores it, angling his body along the coral to go up and over. He’s cresting the top when the sea blurs before his eyes, colours melting together and shapes losing their edges. Castiel crashes shoulder first into the coral. He doesn’t even feel when it rips his skin and he can barely see the fine tendrils of blood that dissipate in the water. His throat works around the notes of a song, pitiful, scared and weak. He can’t hear it, he can’t hear anything. And despite bright-pearl resting high in steady-blue, the waves around Castiel turn black.


	2. The Small-Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel parts his lips, and sings. He sings the wrong song and he makes it right. He sings it like it was meant to be, without that undercurrent of warning. His throat-voice rises and falls in mournful notes, describing his pain from being separated from his colony. He says in song the heartache that burns in his chest and the empty space in his head where his family used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mildly surprised I made today's deadline. I stayed up all night and wrote this. NINETEEN PAGES over the course of... 9-10 hours? It only took so long because I kept getting distracted by reading other fanfictions and tumblr. 
> 
> I've read through this and edited it to the best of my ability at the moment. But I haven't slept in over 24 hours so I can't guarantee everything is all well and good.

Castiel wakes to pain. His palms, his shoulder and his tail all ache and burn. The surface he’s lying against is cool and flat. The ocean smells wrong, something about the water is slightly off. It doesn’t taste right against his tongue and there is no current to move over his gills. His limbs feel too heavy and his arms move sluggishly as he drags them to push himself upright.

When he opens his eyes, Castiel can’t help but cry out. He slumps to the ground again and covers his eyes with his hands. The light is too bright and it hurts, pain ricocheting around in his head. He curls into himself, flicking his tail to wrap over his head as his presses his face into his lap. 

There are sounds in the water, soft sounds that whirr and click and tap. There are muffled noises underneath it all, noises that follow no rhythm. They start and stop, rumbling louder and softer in different pitches and tones. There are heavy thumping sounds that start in one direction and end somewhere else. Castiel listens to it all and tries to place where he is without looking. He doesn’t recognize the sounds as parts of the ocean and it frightens him. 

Castiel opens his eyes under the safety of his hands. He spreads his fingers and winces against the light pushing against the webbing between them. It nearly bleaches the colour from the black-lined-blue membrane. Castiel doesn’t like it. He stares at the thin veins he can see beneath the skin until he thinks his eyes have adjusted enough. He still squints when he lifts his head slowly.

It takes a moment before Castiel can focus on anything. Shapes and colours swim in his vision, slowly coalescing into something he can comprehend. When everything finally stops moving, Castiel knows what he is seeing but he does not understand. Out of reflex, he jerks away from the alien faces watching him. His shoulder and hands burn with the movement as he scrabbles at the flat floor, kicking away until his back hits another smooth surface. 

Castiel twists, looking behind him to a flat wall of grey. He turns back to the faces, distorted by the bending light in the water. He can’t take his eyes off of them for too long, but Castiel needs to explore his boundaries. His hands fumble along the grey wall as he slides along it. Castiel feels when and where it connects to another wall in a sharp corner, but he cannot see it. It takes him too long to realize the invisible wall is made of glass, the same kind of material the artisans use when making fancy baubles. 

It takes Castiel only a few minutes to map out the space. Three of the walls are made of glass and the floor is the same hard flat grey of the back wall. If he touches the tip of his tail to the floor and stretches to his full length with his arms above his head, his fingertips just barely brush the surface of the water. Above that are thick bars of metal. His small-sea is twice his length across from glass-wall to glass-wall and nearly one and a half lengths from grey-wall to glass-wall.

This is a cage and Castiel is trapped. 

He isn’t surprised to find that his sword and dagger are missing. He can see them clearly, laying on a surface on the other side of the glass. The two-tails move about the space beyond his confinement, carrying themselves on their awkward tails. Castiel identifies the thudding booms of their movement as the echoes in the water. He stares openly, not hiding the disgust on his face as he observes the five of them. 

The members of this small group are very different from the ones Castiel saw at the light-beds. They are covered in hanging folds of layered skin and Castiel shudders while looking at it. Their hands and their faces match, and the top most layer of skin is white and drapes halfway down their two-tails. But beneath that, none of their skin seems to be the same as another’s. They all have hair of varying lengths and colours and styles. 

Most of all, Castiel notices the faces. The flat-faced two-tails from before _must_ be a different breed because these two-tails all have faces like him. Though their teeth have odd flat ends and instead of side-fans they have weird fleshy shells. It is disturbing and Castiel wants to turn away from them and hide.

A pair of the two-tails are standing at the front glass-wall, watching him. He levels what he hopes is a scathing glare full of hatred at them before he curls into a ball in the center of the grey-wall. His fans spread as wide as they can and Castiel drapes them over his shoulders and head, hiding away from the two-tails and their eyes.

It is cautiously, and without much hope, that Castiel opens the kin-connection as wide as it can go and shouts for his fin-kin. He calls for Uriel, Hester, and Anna. He calls for Balthazar, Gabriel and Lucifer. He calls for Michael and Raphael, and any member of the colony who might hear him. None of them respond, but he doesn’t stop. 

Castiel loses track of time. He knows he is curled in that spot for many hours, but he doesn’t know how long he has been missing from the colony. The water tastes wrong and hurts his throat. His mind is tired from calling to his family. He wonders if they will even look for him.

There is a splash and Castiel twitches, jerking his fan out of the way to see. Grey fish, barely longer than his hand, fall from a bucket that a tall two-tails is dumping over the edge of the left glass-wall. Castiel frowns as all the dead fish float slowly to the bottom of his cage. One of the fish is stuck across the bars and the two-tail strains to reach and push it through. 

Cautiously, Castiel creeps forward. He drags himself along the floor, barely using his tail. The pair of two-tails standing on the other side of the front glass-wall have tiny sticks in one hand and flat thin-rocks in the other. Their eyes are on him and Castiel knows they are studying him and he _hates_ it. 

He hesitates before reaching for the nearest fish. The yellow-haired female puts the stick to the thin-rock and moves it across the surface. Castiel watches her momentarily before prodding at the fish. It flutters a little against the floor, settling a few inches away and Castiel curls his lip at it. The fish even feels wrong to his touch. This time both the female and the male are moving the little sticks across their flat-rocks. 

The male is tall and thin. His face is long and his chin is mottled with short, bristly hair. Castiel doesn’t like how smug he looks. The male with the bucket is just as tall and his brown hair hangs loose to his shoulders. The female is shorter than the both of them and her yellow hair hangs over her shoulder in a braid. Castiel frowns, looking between tall-one and braided-one and he doesn’t know why he finds them familiar.

Tall-one puts the empty bucket in a corner of the room. When he moves away, Castiel sees the black rod from the swimming-two-tail leaning against the wall. He hisses and flares his fans, baring his teeth at tall-one. Castiel slaps the fish away angrily and whips his tail across the floor. The disruption in the water sends all the fish scattering to the edges of his cage. 

Smug-face is gesturing at Castiel and motioning to tall-one. His lips are moving and that low muffled noise from before comes muted through the glass. Castiel realizes this is how the two-tails communicate. They speak with guttural throat noises like the fin-kin from the invading colony. The correlation between the two is not comforting. 

Castiel darts forward and smacks his tail against the glass. He does it hard and on purpose, aiming in the direction that tall-one stands. Tall-one is still too close to the rod-weapon and he wants the two-tails to know he knows what it can do. They all flinch and look to him in surprise. He wants them to know that he is angry and hates them. 

Now smug-face is smiling and pointing from tall-one to Castiel. He is saying more words in their fumbling language. Tall-one shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. He is not smiling and neither is braided-one. She is speaking too, gesturing with the little stick in her hand. Their conversation has drawn the attention of the other two members of the group. 

The other two are sitting at a long ledge running the length of the room on the opposite side from his cage. The ledge is covered in grey and white blocks, oddly shaped things that Castiel has no idea what they could possibly be, and flat glowing things. Many of the things on the ledge have little blinking lights. The seated two-tails are sitting in front of the flat glowing things, but they’ve turned to look at smug-face. 

One of them is a female. She has black hair hanging loosely past her shoulders. Her lips are a bright red. The other is a male with skin dark like Uriel’s. He smirks at smug-face and turns back to the flat-glow. Castiel cannot see what he is doing with his hands, but things are moving on the glowing surface.

Smug-face is no longer smiling. He raises his voice at tall-one and his gestures towards Castiel have gotten more jerky and violent. Castiel bares his pointed teeth and slaps at the glass. It makes the cuts from the coral sting. Smug-face falls silent and turns his attention to Castiel. In response, he spreads the spines of his side-fans and the two fans running the length of his back. It is an intimidating gesture that back in the colony would indicate his desire for a fight. 

Castiel is the only member of his nest with two back-fans. The others only have one that follows their spine. When he was younger, Castiel often doubted which nest he had been born too. Balthazar had always assured him that he was their nest-brother and that he took after their mother. Castiel’s fans start at his shoulder blades and draw closer as they run down his back, ending just as flesh becomes scale.

A sneer pulls at smug-face’s lips and Castiel mimics it back at him. It is a stupid thing to taunt his captors, but Castiel is angry. They mock him by keeping the weapon they used to capture him in sight. They attempt to feed him with dead fish that feel and smell wrong. They have locked him in a small-sea behind glass walls to stare at and observe him like he is an animal. He is no animal and he will _make_ them see that.

Smug-face’s movements are calm as he puts down the small-stick and flat-rock. He turns his back to Castiel and moves quickly across the room. Castiel follows him, pressing against the glass to keep him in his sight. Tall-one looks wary, then outraged as smug-face shoves his aside and grabs the rod-weapon. 

He approaches Castiel’s cage from the left and Castiel glares at him through the glass, pressing his hands against it and baring his teeth when smug-face stops directly on the other side of the wall. Smug-face moves to the side, and suddenly he is taller than the glass-wall and he is staring down through the bars at him. The rod-weapon pokes through the bars and Castiel snarls as it breaks the water and aims at him. 

He flattens himself to the floor, but his tail is tensed and ready. Castiel is certain he can twist out of the way of whatever the weapon does. His memories of what it did before are fuzzy. He recalls how his arm jerked and then the ocean went black. His hand moves to feel along his right arm until his fingers brush over a welt halfway between his elbow and shoulder. The muscles are sore to the touch and he feels a tiny hole at the center of it. 

Castiel wants to look at it, examine it, but he refuses to take his eyes off the weapon. The pointed tip is less than a tail-length away. Smug-face is saying something to the other two-tails and he looks entirely too pleased with the situation. Castiel dislikes that look almost as much as he dislikes when he is being smug. He wants to wipe that look from his face. He wants to show him that although Castiel is in a cage, he should not be taken lightly because Castiel is a warrior of the colony. He is strong and fast and cunning and the two-tails should know that when he is angry they should be _afraid_.

Smug-face isn’t even looking at him anymore. He is turned to tall-one, who is standing at his side and shouting in their loud, verbal language. Braided-one is hovering just behind him, she keeps looking from tall-one to smug-face and down to the flat-rock in her hand where she keeps moving the small-stick across its surface. 

None of them are expecting Castiel to move. 

His fingers close around the rod-weapon and it only takes one quick tug to pull it out of smug-face’s grip. Smug-face stumbles against the glass-wall, his hand and most of his arm dipping between the bars and into the water with the force of Castiel’s pull before the weapon is actually released from his hand. Now that he is touching it, Castiel has no idea what it is made of. He has felt something like this long ago, and he recalls the fake-rock of the cave Balthazar had been trapped in. 

The end that smug-face was holding is wider and flatter than the pointed tip. There is a ring of this strange material where the weapon flattens and widens, and where his finger had been resting against there is another thin curve of material. Castiel drives the flat end back up into smug-face’s smug face, sending the two-tails tumbling backwards to the floor. Bright blood gushes from his nose and soaks into the loose white skin covering his chest. 

The two-tails break out in an uproar of sound. Dark-skin pulls a large flat-rock from the wall that was covering a hole and he leaves through it. Red-lips and braided-one are helping smug-face to his feet while pressing squares of white to his nose. The skin around Smug-face’s eyes is already starting to bruise and he is glaring hatefully at Castiel. Tall-one hasn’t moved from his spot. He is staring at Castiel and is, surprisingly, smiling slightly. 

Castiel jerks his head in a nod and huffs at smug-face, a small smile of his own curling his lips. He is pleased with his handiwork and retreats to his spot at the center of the grey-wall. With his back against it and his tail curled under him, Castiel examines the rod-weapon. With the tip pointing away from him, he places his hands on it like smug-face had been holding it before. He finds that the small curve of material inside the ring can move. 

When he presses his fingers against it, there is a whumph of sound that Castiel recognizes foggily from the light-beds and the whole rod jerks in his hands. That is followed with the sound of something whipping through the water faster than Castiel can see. He hears a small thud and he turns his head, following the line the pointed tip – which is now blunt – makes in the water. There is a scratch in the glass wall now, and laying at its base is a small something.

Castiel swims over slowly, dragging the rod with him. He picks up the small something and turns it over in his hands, mindful of the sharp point. A needle extends from a small tube of something Castiel can only think of calling fake-glass. The tube is full of a green liquid that tumbles throughout the tube whenever Castiel tilts it. The whole thing is barely as long as his finger. 

He frowns at it and holds out his arm to see the welt. With the needle-tip next to it, he can tell this is what hit him. It doesn’t take much thinking to determine that when the needle pierced his skin on the reef, it likely emptied the contents of the tube into his body and that it is the green liquid that made him fall unconscious. The green liquid must be a kind of poison, like what can be found in the barbs of certain kinds of fish. 

A knock on the glass makes Castiel flinch and look up. Tall-one is leaning over so that he and Castiel are face to face with the glass-wall between them. He has a small smile playing on his lips. The only other two-tails in the room is braided-one. She is standing off to the side with her flat-rock and stick again. 

Tall-one tilts his head to get Castiel to look to him again. He doesn’t return tall-one’s smile. But he holds his eyes to show him he has his attention. The two-tails only smiles wider and he lifts his hand and waves. Castiel’s brows pinch together in a frown. He doesn’t understand why tall-one is trying to be friendly, especially when he has Castiel effectively locked inside the small-sea. But Castiel raises the hand with the liquid-tube and waves back. 

Braided-one is approaching slowly and she is smiling softly too. She waves and Castiel waves back. Tall-one and braided-one talk animatedly to one another, gesturing at him a few times. They’re both looking very happy, despite how Castiel basically attacked one of the members of their group. 

Thinking on it now, he realizes that attacking his captors was an act of brashness that will likely bring him problems soon – if not later. But he can’t bring himself to regret it. Not when he thinks of the look of surprise that smug-face had. It had been a lesson to the two-tails and now he must show them another. He must show them that he is not a monster that will hurt them.

Tall-one and braided-one turn to him when he swims up. They watch with wide eyes as Castiel pushes his hand through the bars and stretches his arm over the edge of the glass wall, holding out the liquid-tube. The space above the water is weird and for the first time, Castiel doesn’t feel the press of water on his skin. His arm itches where it starts to dry. 

He looks at the two-tails. They are both staring at his hand and he knocks on the glass until they look to him again. Castiel raises his eyebrows and tries to look as sorry as he can for the damage he did to their friend. He keeps the tube pressed to his palm with a few fingers and his thumb and waggles the others in a come-here motion. Tall-one steps forward, reaching up. Castiel drops the tube into his waiting hand. 

Next he works the rod-weapon up through the bars. It takes both hands to keep it steady and tall-one takes it as soon as it’s over the edge. He’s smiling brightly at Castiel and keeps looking back to braided-one, speaking words that rumble through the glass. Castiel smiles back, slightly. Nothing more than a quirk of the corner of his mouth. He points at the weapon and at the welt on his arm and shakes his head. 

Tall-one bites his lip and a flash of guilt crosses his face when his eyes go to the welt. The guilt doesn’t last long and his expression hardens before he raises his hand and smashes the liquid-tube on the floor. Braided-one covers her mouth with her hand in surprise and Castiel stares as tall-one puts the flat-end of the weapon on the ground and kicks at the middle. He can hear the crack of it breaking through the glass and tall-one throws the pieces aside. 

Castiel is grinning at him when he looks back up. He nods and smiles at Castiel, holding his hands up to show that he has no more weapons and nothing to hurt him with. Castiel knows better. He knows they probably have more of those weapons somewhere, that they probably have different kinds that are worse than this one. But they aren’t here and tall-one isn’t going to use them on him. 

Braided-one is smiling softly and she puts her hand on tall-one’s arm. She stretches up on the tips of her tails and presses a kiss to his cheek. He turns and smiles at her, then sheepishly runs a hand through his hair to rub at the back of his neck as he looks at the mess he made. He kisses her on the mouth and Castiel tilts his head, pressing his hands to the glass as he watches them talk softly to one another. 

He thinks these two are mates. He’s never seen anyone kiss on the mouth who weren’t mates, or planning on being mated. Castiel presses his fingers to his own lips and frowns at the touch. He’s never been kissed. He doesn’t count the times when Anna kissed his cheek. Now that he has been captured by two-tails, Castiel realizes that it’s possible that he might never find a mate. 

The thought leaves him sad and he turns away from tall-one and braided-one. Castiel’s stomach is empty and he can feel the claws of hunger pushing at his insides. But he doesn’t want to eat. A heavy weight settles in his chest and he sinks into a corner of his small-sea, his fans folded tight to his body. He folds his tail and draws it against his chest, wrapping his arms around it and he presses his face into his scales.

His mind is as empty as his stomach. The voices of the fin-kin cannot reach him here and for the first time in his life, Castiel feels well and truly alone. This is nothing like the light-beds when searching for Balthazar. Even the tentative friendship he is cultivating with tall-one and braided-one does nothing to help and Castiel feels his eyes sting with tears. 

Castiel sits there for many long moments. He ignores all the sounds from the other sides of the glass-walls and he laments the loss of his colony. He cries for the family he will never see again and that they will never know what really happened to him. He cries for mother-sea and her waters that he might never swim in again. 

He cries himself to sleep.

x

The two-tails are gone and the room is dark when Castiel wakes again. There are a few blinking lights on the opposite ledge, and the bright lights from above are very dim. Castiel can look directly at them now without his eyes hurting. He can see round orbs, like the bright-pearl or pale-pearl of steady-blue, recessed into the roof of this room. He likes it like this and he runs a comforting hand over the glowing pattern of his tail.

His stomach knots painfully and Castiel realizes it could very well have been days since he last ate. The fish that tall-one dumped into the waters are still laying along the seams of the floor and wall. He can smell them from where he sits and the very stench of them brings bile to sting at the back of his throat. They are clearly fish that have never swam in the sea.

Castiel swims to the nearest one. He picks it up gingerly, pinching the membrane of its tail between his fingers. It floats lifelessly with the smallest of movements and Castiel cringes at the thought of eating it. He really has no choice though and, steeling himself, he sinks he’s teeth into it. The taste is bland on his tongue and Castiel eats quickly, swallowing the meat while trying not to taste it.

He collects all the fish and strips them to the bone. He sucks the delicate pieces of the skeleton clean and places them in a small pile next to him when he’s done with them. When everything is finished, he gathers the bones and piece by piece shoves them through the bars and over the glass-wall. He doesn’t want the garbage to clutter up his small-sea, and the two-tails can deal with it and take it wherever they take their own leftovers. 

The next few hours he wastes swimming in circles and stretching. Castiel is frustrated that he can’t get up to a decent speed but he won’t allow his body to weaken just because he’s trapped in this cage. 

Castiel stops when the covering over the wall-hole swings open. Suddenly the lights get bright again and he hisses, wincing against the change. Tall-one is standing by the hole and he is wincing too. He raises his hands and shrugs his shoulders. Castiel scrunches his nose at the apologetic look, but returns the wave tall-one gives him. 

Tall-one makes a face at the pile of bones outside Castiel’s cage. In response, Castiel gives him the same apologetic shrug. It makes tall-one laugh and Castiel grins at him. He stays near the front glass-wall and watches as tall-one moves around the room. Every time he moves past something on the opposite ledge, he stops and it lights up. Castiel watches, intrigued. He wants to know what those things are, but he can’t think of a way to ask that tall-one will understand. 

He remembers that the swimming two-tails at the light-beds had felt the touch of the kin-connection. Castiel wonders if tall-one could feel it too. If he could feel it, would he be able to respond through it? Even if their languages were not the same, being able to share emotions generally allowed for better communication. 

Castiel reaches out for the tall-one’s mind. He can sense it before he touches it and it is oddly familiar to him. It’s not like any mind of the fin-kin, but Castiel feels like he’s touched it before. But the only two-tail’s mind that he’s touched previously is the male at the light-beds. Castiel frowns and studies tall-one closely. 

Today, tall-one’s loose-skins are different colours under his white-skin. The white-skin is hanging open all down the front and Castiel can see that at his waist the loose-skins change from the dark-blue of his tails to a crisscross of different shades of red over his chest. When tall-one turns to Castiel’s cage again, he makes a face at the bones again before picking up the bucket from the corner. 

Castiel isn’t sure what noise he makes, but it must be one of horror to match his expression when tall-one actually _removes_ the white-skin. He tosses it over one of the odd-shaped things that red-lips and dark-skin had been sitting on yesterday. The red crisscross patterned loose-skin covers tall-one’s arms and he puts down the bucket on the surface where Castiel’s sword and dagger lay. Tall-one takes hold of the loose-skin where it rests against his wrist and Castiel makes another noise when he starts to roll it up his arm. 

At the second noise, tall-one looks up at him. He has an eyebrow raised in question and then he laughs. Castiel is staring with wide-eyed horror at what tall-one is doing to his loose-skin. Tall-one keeps laughing, even as he cleans up the bones and drops them into the bucket. When he’s done, he sets it by the wall-hole with the hole-covering still hanging open. 

Tall-one comes back to stand directly in front of Castiel. His smile is wide, but Castiel can’t bring himself to smile back because tall-one just _mutilated himself_. His white-skin is still laying across the room and Castiel doesn’t understand how or why and it’s a little frightening. 

Tall-one holds out his hand with his palm towards Castiel and he wiggles his fingers. The expectant tilt to his head and the raised eyebrow leave no room for question and Castiel copies the movement. Tall-one points at his hand, and then points to Castiel’s hand. He presses his palm to the glass and Castiel does the same. Tall-one has larger hands than Castiel, but not by much. 

His other hand is moving at his chest and Castiel turns his attention to that. Little round-stones are spaced down the front of tall-one’s red-skin. Castiel watches, entranced, as tall-one moves his fingers over them and pushes them through small holes. The red-skin parts when he does that and it reveals another layer of white-skin beneath it. Castiel wonders how many layers of skin two-tails actually have. 

Tall-one tugs at the loose-skin and it gets baggier and baggier around his waist until suddenly it is no longer attached to the blue-skin. Castiel recoils and tall-one laughs, his smile crinkling his eyes. He shrugs the red-skin off his shoulders and tosses it over Castiel’s sword. Castiel covers his eyes because it’s too horrible to watch and he doesn’t care that he can still hear tall-one laughing and that he’s not in pain. It’s disgusting and he shouldn’t be showing him something like this.

There is knocking on the glass and Castiel slowly peeks over his fingers. He makes a strangled noise in his throat when, as soon as tall-one can see his eyes, he fists the white-skin and pulls it over his head. Castiel’s spines spread and he closes and opens his fans repeatedly in surprise, but he doesn’t look away because now tall-one’s chest matches his hands and face. 

Castiel lowers his hands and swims closer to the glass. He stares hard, trying to understand because he knows now that this is tall-one’s true skin. Tall-one taps his chest and then taps the glass over where Castiel’s chest is. Castiel touches the skin of his own chest and looks between where his fingertips touch and tall-one’s skin. There is a dark mark of sharp lines in a circle with pointed edges over tall-one’s heart – assuming that his heart is in the same place as a fin-kin’s. 

Tall-one points suddenly to the top of the glass-wall. He holds out his other arm, angling it so that it is flat in mid-air, and mimes pushing his other arm through it. Castiel understands despite the bad pantomiming and swims to the top of his small-sea. He sticks his arm through the bars and dangles his hand over the edge of the glass-wall. Tall-one holds up the white-skin he just removed and presses it against Castiel’s hand. 

He moves his fingers over the loose-skin, feeling how it is soft and not unpleasant to touch, but still rougher than skin should be. The white-skin is pulled away and tall-one presses his wrist into Castiel’s fingers. He feels the difference and suddenly Castiel understands. The loose-skins aren’t skins at all. He doesn’t know what they’re called, but they’re something that the two-tails _wear_. They are things they put on their bodies like the fin-kin wear braided kelp to carry their weapons or the woman wear trinkets the artisans make with glass and shine-stones. 

Castiel understand and he smiles and tall-one smiles back. He steps away and pulls on the white-skin, then his red-skin again. He unrolls the part over his arm and puts the longer white-skin over top of it all. Castiel thinks it’s far too many layers and he muses on how comfortable they must be. He thinks it would feel restrictive to wear so much. But maybe the two-tails need it to keep warm? The air beyond the water feels cool to Castiel’s skin, so this is a concept that he can understand. 

Tall-one picks up the bucket and gestures for Castiel’s attention. He points to himself and then to the wall-hole. He does this a few times and Castiel nods, understanding that tall-one is leaving. Tall-one points to himself and then back to the room, indicating that he’ll return. Castiel nods again. He smiles and settles against the floor of his small-sea, leaning his shoulder into a corner and resting his head against the glass. He flicks his fingers in a little shooing motion and tall-one laughs again before leaving. 

While he is gone, Castiel thinks about what he just learned. He realizes now that the swimming two-tails are not a different breed, they were simply wearing different loose-skins. Although the black-skin had not been so very loose. It was more like a second-skin. He concludes the reason is because it would produce far less drag in the water while swimming. 

But if that is the case, then the two-tails at the light-beds could be the two-tails here in the room. Castiel frowns. The ones at the light-beds had braided yellow hair and the male was tall with longer brown hair. 

When it clicks and he understands, Castiel’s stomach turns and he feels sick. 

Tall-one returns with an empty bucket. His smile falls slowly when he sees the glare Castiel fixes him with. Castiel points at tall-one and then at the welt on his arm where the liquid-tube had hit him. It makes sense now; why Castiel recognized the presence of his mind and why tall-one had looked guilty when he had connected the weapon to the welt. The same look flashes on tall-one’s face again. He closes his eyes momentarily and nods. 

A hard knot settles behind Castiel’s sternum. He shouldn’t feel betrayed by this discovery, but he does. Tall-one is the same two-tails that attacked Castiel on the light-beds. He’s the one who knocked him out and brought him to this small-sea. He’s the reason Castiel is trapped here. And to make it all worse, Castiel had started to _like_ him, had started to think tall-one would be his friend and maybe being caged here wouldn’t be so bad. 

Castiel glares harder and his fans flare. He turns away from tall-one with a snort of disgust and swims to the very back of his small-sea. Just like yesterday, he curls into himself and covers his shoulders and head with the fans of his tail. His arms circle his chest and he hugs himself, withdrawing from the only other presence in the room with body and mind.

He stays like that for a long time. Not nearly as long as yesterday, but long enough for the other two-tails to arrive. He can hear them talking and moving about, filling his small-sea with the sounds of their annoying thuds. Castiel puts his hands over his side-fins to try and keep it out, but he can feel the vibrations in the water as it brushes over his skin and he hates it.

He feels homesick and lonely and he is still angry with tall-one and braided-one for capturing him. Castiel closes his eyes and wishes he could hear the songs of his fin-kin. Even if it was just the wrong song singing through the waves, Castiel wants to hear the voices of something familiar. All he has is his own. 

Castiel closes his eyes, parts his lips, and sings. He sings the wrong song and he makes it right. He sings it like it was meant to be, without that undercurrent of warning. His throat-voice rises and falls in mournful notes, describing his pain from being separate from his colony. He voices in song the heartache that burns in his chest and the empty space in his head where his family used to be. 

The only vibrations in the water now are the ones belonging to Castiel. His song reverberates through his small-sea, reflecting back on him from the glass-walls. Castiel sings until his throat is sore and the tones are little more than croaks and they die out on his tongue. There is only the quiet background hum of something big far below the floor – Castiel doesn’t think about that – that meets the end of his song. 

It is quiet for so long that Castiel uncurls and looks up, thinking the two-tails might have left. The five he recognizes are standing off to one side, but there are over a dozen new faces standing squished into the space between the opposite ledge and Castiel’s small-sea. He can see even more faces staring through the wall-hole. No one is talking and they are all staring at Castiel. 

The murmuring starts out slow, somewhere at the back of the group. It grows louder and soon they’re all talking animatedly. Some are wiping at their eyes while other are gesturing with wide movements of their arms. His small-sea fills with the vibrations and Castiel cries out, flattening his side-fins and covering them with his hands again. Silence falls again and he watches as braided-one, tall-one and dark-skin motion for the new comers to leave. 

There is much pushing and shoving, but finally the space clears and everything is as it was. Except tall-one is hanging back by the wall-hole. He’s smiling and talking animatedly to a two-tails Castiel can only see a hand of from where he rests against the grey-wall, the hole-covering is blocking the rest from view. 

Castiel isn’t particularly curious, but he still wants to know. He wants to catalogue all the faces of the two-tails he sees, because it is his training and that is all Castiel has left to him now. He lazily flicks his tail to propel himself across the small-sea until he can presses his hands to the glass and can see around the hole-covering. 

This new two-tail is leaning against the edge of the hole and he is not too much shorter than tall-one. He has one hand hidden in a loose fold of the blue-skin over his tails and he’s moving the other one as he talks. His hair is short like Castiel’s and is a lighter brown than tall-one’s hair. His cheeks and nose are covered in a smattering of freckles and Castiel is awed as he studies this two-tails. He has never seen so many freckles before. 

The two-tails stops talking, hand frozen in mid-air and his mouth half-formed around one of their words. Castiel lifts his curious gaze from the loose-skins to his eyes and he is amazed because they are so very _green_. He’s never seen green eyes before and Castiel stares because they’re staring right back at him and neither one of them are looking away. 

Tall-one looks over his shoulder at Castiel and then he leans forward and says something to green-eyes. He doesn’t look away, and green-eyes quirks his lips in a little smile and his hand - still hanging in mid-air – twists into a small wave. Castiel tilts his head to the side, removes one hand from the glass and waves back. He won’t smile though, because none of the two-tails deserve his smile anymore. Tall-one turns slightly and raises his hand to wave too. Castiel only frowns at him and turns his face away. 

He still sees green-eyes’s laugh and playful shove at tall-one’s shoulder. The way they act is painfully reminiscent to how his nest-brothers used to play. Castiel thinks tall-one and green-eyes may be brothers and the thought only makes the knot in his chest grow. He’s busy watching them talk and it is a foolish thing he does to not pay attention to the rest of his surroundings. 

Something hard and cold closes around Castiel’s wrist and he shouts in surprise with mind and voice as it jerks him towards the surface. It’s a braided rope of metal at the end of a long stick. It’s wrapped tight around his wrist, the base of the stick pressing hard against his skin. At the other end is smug-face and he still manages to look smug despite the bruising covering most of his face and the strip of white over his nose. 

Castiel is struggling against the braided metal but it’s cutting into his skin and it burns. The stick is being held by dark-skin and smug-face and they pull it until Castiel’s arm is out of the water and his shoulder is pressed painfully against the bars. One side of his neck and head are exposed to the air and Castiel can hardly breathe and he can hear all the noises as they should sound not muted by the water. 

He wraps his free hand around the bar and pushes against it, trying to get enough leverage to pull his arm back, trying to get enough slack to get his gills back underwater. Cold hands close over his arm and force it down at the elbow, folding it over the edge of the glass-wall. He thrashes against the hold, his tail breaking the waves and banging against the bars and the glass. And he can hear their _words_ but they mean nothing to him and he can’t _breathe_.

“Gordon, hold his arm _still_.”

“I _am_ holding it! Just draw the goddamn blood already.”

“He’s squirming too much, I won’t get the vein –”

“What the hell are you two doing?! Jess, why didn’t you stop them!”

“I told them this wasn’t the right way, that he would probably let us if we just asked him but they wouldn’t listen, Sam –”

“Oh, listen to you two. ‘Ask him’? He’s an _animal_. You can’t ask an animal any–”

“Alistair, let him go! He can’t fuckin’ _breathe_!” 

“You’re not even supposed to be in here, Dean. Meg, get him out of here.”

“You’re making him _bleed_ , you asshole! Sammy, make ‘em stop!”

“Leave it alone, Dean-o, this is how things go. Come on –”

“I’m not leaving when you guys are fuckin’ _attacking_ him!”

“I’m sorry, did you completely miss that he _broke_ my goddamn _nose_?”

The meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh rings out and suddenly Castiel is free. He drags the metal hoop and stick to the safety of the middle of the small-sea and clutches his bleeding wrist to his chest. Castiel takes great shuddering breaths, doubled over and his chest heaving at finally being able to breathe again. His heart is hammering painfully against his ribs and he’s not ashamed to admit it’s fear that fuels it. 

The two-tails are shouting at each other. Tall-one has his arms locked around green-eyes’s chest, holding him back and green-eyes shouts and waves his fists at smug-face and dark-skin. There is blood on his fists. Castiel thinks it’s his at first, but then he sees smug-face’s lip is split badly. Braided-one and red-lips are standing to the side as the green-eyes yells at the other males, except for tall-one. Red-lips has her hands hidden in the folds of her white-skin and she’s got a twist to her lips that makes a chill run down Castiel’s spine because it looks like she’s enjoying the fight.

Dark-skin steps forward, pushing the loose-skins up his arm and he’s shouting at green-eyes. Braided-one steps in between them and dark-skin shoves her aside hard enough that she falls and tall-one lets go of green-eyes only to strike at dark-skin before green-eyes can. Red-lips is helping braided-one back up when tall-one is suddenly next to her and Castiel can see his concern in every line of his body. 

Green-eyes is pointing at the wall-hole across the room and he’s not shouting anymore but Castiel can still hear the low rumble of his voice. It sends another set of shivers down his spine. He can hear his anger, the barely controlled venom in his words. Red-lips helps support smug-face with his arm around her shoulders and she leaves with him and dark-skin. Green-eyes speaks for a moment to tall-one and braided-one before he moves to the edge of Castiel’s small-sea. 

Even halfway across his cage, Castiel cringes when green-eyes moves onto the rise that makes them stand taller than the glass-wall. He hunches his shoulders and flares his fans, trying to warn green-eyes away. He’s aware somewhat that green-eyes was helping him and that he fought the ones who were hurting him.

Green-eyes leans over the glass-wall and submerges his arms almost all the way to the shoulders. It’s a very stupid position for him to take, Castiel notes, because if Castiel attacked he could pull green-eyes against the bars and hurt him with claws and fangs. But green-eyes doesn’t seem to care because he’s gesturing for Castiel to come closer. And when Castiel doesn’t move, he gestures by pointing at his own wrist and circling his fingers around it. He acts out removing the fingers from his wrist several times and Castiel understood the first time but he still doesn’t move. 

Green-eyes may have fought for him, but Castiel wasn’t going to trust him. He couldn’t trust any two-tails. He thinks maybe green-eyes understands it because he makes recognizable noise of frustration and withdraws his arms. Tall-one and braided-one are standing on either side of him and he talks to them for a few moments. 

Tall-one shakes his head, sending his floppy hair flying. Braided-one looks understanding and she’s nodding and touches green-eyes’s hand. He lets her for a moment then pulls his hand away and he’s talking to tall-one with loud, angry words. Tall-one is making distressed faces and gesturing to braided-one. She shakes her head and reaches into her pocket for something that she hands to green-eyes and then tall-one is the one talking with the loud and angry words. 

Green-eyes isn’t paying attention anymore. He’s doing something to the edge of the bars. He hands back whatever it was braided-one gave him and then wraps his hands around the bars and lifts. Castiel watches with wide eyes as the a section of the bars is pulled up and angled toward the ceiling. It leaves open air along that entire wall, a space just a little wider than the length of Castiel’s arm from neck to fingertips. He didn’t know the bars could do that. But there had to have been some way that they got him into the small-sea in the first place. 

Tall-one is still being loud and he’s pulling on the top layer of loose-skin that green-eyes just shrugs out of. He pulls off the black-skin underneath and now it’s just his own skin. He has the same black mark over his heart that tall-one does and Castiel wonders if it’s a family trait. Green-eyes shuffles oddly on his two-tails and then he’s pulling off white-skins from the ends of his tail and dropping them to the floor. 

Castiel retreats to the far side of his cage when green-eyes grips the edge of the glass-wall and climbs over it. Water splashes over the sides of the walls when he falls heavily into the water. He’s kicking his tails to keep his head above water and he’s still holding onto the edge. Now that he’s in the water, when he speaks to tall-one his voice is less muffled and Castiel can barely make out his words – not that he can understand them. 

“If you wanna get the tanks then go and get the tanks, Sammy. I’m not getting out until that thing’s offa him and I’m not gonna swim over there either. ----- Of _course_ I’m gonna wait for him to come to me. What? You think I’m stupid. Christ, gimme some fuckin’ credit.”

Then Castiel sucks in a sharp breath because green-eyes is underwater and looking at him from across the tank. He flares his fans and takes a small pleasure that green-eyes goes still and his eyes widen. He breaks the surface again before coming back under. Castiel realizes it’s because he has to breathe and this is new knowledge for him. Two-tails can’t breathe underwater – but when tall-one and braided-one were swimming in the light-beds, they weren’t going up for air. They were spewing bubbles as if they were breathing just fine in mother-sea. 

Green-eyes keeps going up for breath and coming back down. He gestures often for Castiel to come closer and Castiel refuses to move. He shakes his head and pulls his hand closer to his chest. The stick is still attached and hits the floor with a sharp noise whenever Castiel moves. 

Braided-one and tall-one are standing on the rise. They’re talking to green-eyes whenever he goes up to breathe. It takes Castiel far too long to realize green-eyes is giving him a show of trust. It would be too easy for Castiel to drag green-eyes to the bottom of small-sea where he cannot breathe and hold him there until the water fills his lungs. Green-eyes wants Castiel to trust him to remove the braided metal on his wrist. 

Green-eyes is above the water when Castiel moves. He skims along the floor in a quick, fluid motion. The stick scrapes across the grey surface and the noise hurts his head. Tall-one or braided-one must say something because green-eyes leans his face into the water to watch him but doesn’t make any motion to move otherwise. Castiel stays at the bottom, eyeing him warily. 

He lifts his head out of the water and Castiel watches as his chest rises in falls with a few deep breathes before expanding grandly. Green-eyes pushes himself under completely and he lets go of the wall. Castiel slips out of his reach, but green-eyes doesn’t reach for him. He’s paddling at the water with his hands and doing strange kicks with his two-tails that sink him to the bottom of the small-sea. 

Small streams of bubbles are pulsing out at intervals from his nose and Castiel watches him. He knows, from watching him while he waited, that green-eyes can’t hold his breath for very long. Barely a minute at best. He’s trusting Castiel to not hold him down here, to pin him to the floor or the wall and let him drown. He tilts his head and catches Castiel’s eyes with his own, raising his eyebrows in a silent plea. 

Castiel swims in a small circle, edging closer. Green-eyes’s face is going red and Castiel knows he needs to breathe soon. He reaches out with his good hand and presses his palm to green-eyes’s shoulder. The skin is smooth under his touch and he flexes his fingers against the muscle. A thicker stream of bubbles escapes through his lips and tall-one is raising his voice. Tightening his hold, Castiel flicks his tail and drags green-eyes back to the surface. 

He lets green-eyes breathe as he tests to see how far he can rise out of the water. He keeps closer to the bars, hopefully out of reach of tall-one and braided-one. Green-eyes has his hand on the edge again and he’s watching curiously. Castiel determines that as long as the gills on his neck are submerged and he dips his lips under to suck in an extra breath or two, he can keep his head above the surface.

Green-eyes is smiling again and his voice rumbles over the water and vibrates down Castiel’s spine. It’s pleasant and rough. “So you ready for me to take that thing offa you?”

Castiel tilts his head and his brow furrows. He wishes that he knew their language and he thinks about trying to touch their minds again. But green-eyes has his other hand out of the water and he’s pointing to himself, “Dean.”

He points to tall-one, “Sam.”

He points to braided-one, “Jess.”

And then points to himself again, “Dean.”

 _Names_. Castiel nods and all three of them smile again. Dean points to Castiel and quirks his eyebrow. Castiel frowns. He doesn’t like voice-speaking. In the colony, voices are used for singing. But Dean, Sam and Jess are giving him expectant looks and this could be his only way to communicate with them. He dips his lips under the waves and breathes a few times. 

He lifts his hand and pokes Dean in the chest, “Dean.” The name feels foreign on his tongue and his side-fans flare at the sound of his own voice. It is deeper and rougher than Dean’s and it surprises him as much as it surprises them. He lifts his hand out of the water and points accordingly, “Sam. Jess.” 

Their smiles are almost blinding but they don’t say anything when he turns his finger back to himself, “Castiel.”

Dean points, “Castiel.”

He nods and Dean’s grinning, “Hi Cas.”

“Hi Cas?” He tilts his head to the side again because he has no idea what Dean just said.

Sam leans forward and smacks Dean on the top of his head, “He obviously doesn’t speak English, idiot.”

Dean ducks after the fact, which just seems a weird thing to do and Castiel is frowning at that, and Dean is glaring over his shoulder at Sam, “I know that. I was just being _polite_ , Jesus, gimme a break.”

Jess rolls her eyes at the pair of them and then she calls his name. He looks to her and she points to her wrist. Castiel raises his other hand from the water. The braided metal is cutting deep against the skin and blood still bubbles up around its edges. Jess gasps and Sam grunts some words Castiel barely hears. Dean’s face has gone dark. 

“I should’ve broke both their fuckin’ faces. Christ, look at that.” He reaches forward but pauses when Castiel twitches and ducks down until the water is over his nose, “Sorry, Cas. I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.”

Castiel still doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks ‘Cas’ is supposed to be him. It’s his name, only shortened. Like how Balthazar always calls him ‘Cassie’. He flicks the tip of his tail and rises up again, pointing at himself, “Cas?”

Dean smiles and nods, pointing, “Castiel. Cas.”

It is acceptable and Castiel nods. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling slightly until Dean is grinning again all teeth and crinkles around his green eyes. His hair is slicked down against his skull, but it’s starting to stick up in places where it’s drying. Castiel finds it endearing and he wonders if his own hair is doing the same. 

He holds out his sore wrist to Dean, the long stick dangling uselessly beneath it. 

“Sammy, hold me up. I’m gonna need both hands for this.” Dean lets go of the edge and he sinks a little into the water before Sam leans forward and tucks his hands under Dean’s armpits and lifts him back up. 

Castiel hisses when Dean’s fingers touch the raw skin around the braided metal. Dean immediately pulls his hands away, eyes wide like he’s scared to hurt him. Castiel pushes his wrist closer and nods, trying to tell Dean with actions alone that it’s okay. Dean takes hold of his hand and the stick. He does something Castiel can’t see but the stick is no longer digging into his wrist and the braided metal is loose enough to peel from his skin and slip over his hand. 

Jess grabs the stick and tosses it haphazardly over her shoulder. Castiel moves to pull away, but Dean is still holding his hand. His free hand is accepting a roll of white something from Jess. Castiel eyes it warily. 

Dean smiles softly and makes a soft shushing noise, “Castiel.” 

He speaks his name slow and soft, in a calm tone that sooths Castiel’s nerves. He knows Dean is speaking to him like Castiel would a spooked animal or a child and the thought is annoying, but he understands. 

Dean unravels the white thing with one hand while he pulls Castiel’s wrist underwater, letting it clean the wound. When he lifts it out again, he wraps the white thing around Castiel’s wrist. He recognizes the texture and his eyes go to Sam. Sam is smiling and he nods, looking down to his own loose-skin, confirming the white-thing is similar. Dean ties the white thing off with a knot and let’s go. 

“All finished!” 

Castiel examines his wrist. The binding is a simple bandage, like wrapping a wound with kelp to help staunch the bleeding. He brushes it lightly with his fingers and nods. It is acceptable. He wants to say thank you, but he doesn’t know their words for it. All Castiel can say is, “Dean”.

“You’re welcome.” Dean grins and Sam lets him go so he can grab the edge of the glass-wall. 

Jess and Sam help him back over until he’s standing next to them. The colour of his blue-skin is darker and he plucks it at, shifting uncomfortably. But he’s looking at Castiel with concerned eyes, “Is he going to be okay?”

Sam pats him on the shoulder, “We’ll make sure Alistair and Gordon aren’t left alone with him. And you can come in here whenever you want. If anyone asks, Jess and I gave you permission because Castiel likes you and we’ll learn more from him if he makes nice with you.” 

Castiel perks when he hears his name but Sam is already leaning across the open space, reaching for the bars. He huffs a sigh at them and sinks below, watching as Jess and Dean move off the rise and gather Dean’s loose-skin. He pops up again, before the bars are closed and reaches out to touch Sam’s white-skin. He tugs on it and looks up at him. 

Sam pauses in lowering the bars and he looks at Castiel with confusion before understanding slips into place. He plucks at his white-skin then shifts it aside to pull at his red-skin. Castiel nods and tilts his head to the side, asking the silent question. 

“Clothes.” Sam answers. 

“Clothes.” Castiel repeats and he nods and twists back under. 

Dean is pulling on his clothes and Castiel mouths the word at him. He laughs and nods and Castiel smiles because Dean and Sam and Jess are nice, even if Sam and Jess brought him here. But he knows their names and they know his and he has learned a new word. They treated him like fin-kin and it was nice.

Castiel settles against the grey-wall and lets his fingers dance over the bandage around his wrist. He watches as Dean speaks longer to Sam and Jess before he leaves. He stops at the wall-hole and waves goodbye to Castiel. He raises his hand – the one with the bandage – and waves back. Without thinking, he reaches out with his mind like he would to any of his brothers and pushes at Dean’s consciousness. 

_(Thank you, Dean.)_


	3. Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel lifts his head and his fans flair slightly with pleased surprise when Dean turns to the glass. He waves at Dean and gets a wave and a small, strained smile in return. Dean presses both hands against the glass and jerks his head in a small gesture for him to come closer. Castiel frowns and shakes his head. Long-white wants him over there. She wants to use his tentative new friends to get him to do what she wants and Castiel will not give her that satisfaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who's commented and said such nice things about this work. Truly, thank you. I never expected anything like your kindness when I started this and it's just... well I'm just tickled pink.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I've fought with it for an hour to get it to post right. If you've been trying to read it during that time, I'm sorry if anything was off. But it looks good to me now. Hopefully you enjoy it.

Dean comes back to the room only once more that day. He delivers another bucket of the grey fish to Sam and leaves as quickly as he arrives. He doesn’t look at Castiel and doesn’t speak to any of the two-tails. Castiel wants to reach out to him and press his confusion and unease into Dean’s mind like he had earlier with his gratitude.  
  
After Castiel had spoken to him directly, Dean had stumbled head first into the edge of the wall-hole. Sam and Jess had inquired after him worryingly and Castiel had swam to the glass-wall, concerned. Dean had stared at Castiel with a hand to his head and waved off the other two-tails before he fled from the room. Red-lips returned not long after that.  
  
Castiel is worried. Did the touch of his mind to Dean’s frighten him?  
  
Sam seems to notice Dean’s behavior because he’s speaking in a quiet rumble to Jess, his brows pinched together. He keeps looking toward the wall-hole where Dean left, even as he dumps the grey fish into the small-sea. He frowns at Castiel too but not in anger. Castiel knows the same expression is on his own face and he shrugs his shoulders.  
  
Sam repeats the movement and shakes his head. His smile is strained. Red-lips comes over and Sam steps away to speak to her. She gestures at Castiel with one hand. In her other she has a handful of rectangular pieces of colour. She pulls one from the pile and Sam takes it. His expression brightens and he walks over to the glass-wall. Castiel tilts his head, curious, and presses closer to the glass.  
  
He holds up the rectangle for Castiel to see the colours. Castiel squints and then jerks away from the wall, fans flaring in surprise. The colour-rectangle is covered in different shades and colours and they form a still-image of a fin-kin. Castiel recognizes the crimson coral from the edge of the light-beds, and stretched along the seam between sand and coral is a fin-kin.  
  
Castiel moves close again, pressing his nose against the glass as Sam holds the colour-rectangle up for him to see better. Many questions flit through Castiel’s mind and none of them lead him to understand how the still-image could be showing him the ocean when the ocean is obviously not here. And who is the fin-kin?  
  
His confusion must be evident because Sam lowers the colour-rectangle. He roots around in the folds of his white-clothes and pulls out a much smaller colour-square and presses that against the glass. It is another still-image where the colours come together in the shape of Sam and Jess. They are both sitting at the edge of the ocean, tail-tips buried in the sand and wearing very small clothes.  
  
But Sam and Jess are right there on the other side of the glass. They are not sitting in the sand or wearing small clothes. Castiel looks between them and the still-image, frowning in confusion as he tries to understand. Sam puts the small colour-square away and holds up the bigger one with the fin-kin again. He taps the fin-kin and points at Castiel and back to the fin-kin.  
  
Castiel’s eyes go wide because it couldn’t be, could it? The still-image of the fin-kin couldn’t be like the still-image of Sam and Jess where it is them but not them. He looks closer at the fin-kin, squinting. Sam holds up his hand, gesturing for Castiel to wait as he exchanges with red-lips for a new colour-rectangle. He holds that up to the glass and it is an even closer still-image of the fin-kin.  
  
Now Castiel can see better details. He can see that the fin-kin is male and has two fans pressed close to his back. His tail is black and patterned with familiar streaks and speckles of blue. Castiel twists his tail up beside him and runs his hands over his glow-pattern, comparing it to the still-image. They are the same.  
  
The fin-kin is him. But Castiel is right here. He isn’t there. But that is him?  
  
Sam is grinning as Castiel struggles to understand. He exchanges the still-image for another from red-lips and this time it is the face of a fin-kin. Sam taps it and points to Castiel again and for the first time, Castiel sees himself. He sees the subtle dip in his chin, the curve of his pale pink lips and the point of his nose. He sees the dark brown of his hair, twisted and loose in the water and the stubble on his cheeks and chin.  
  
Castiel rubs his fingers over his face absently as he examines the still-image. He feels the rough hairs. He doesn’t have a knife to keep himself clean shaven and he might end up with a beard if the two-tails don’t give him one. But that’s him? That’s _his_  face? Those are _his_ eyes?  
  
A painful knot of longing tightens in his chest. His eyes are the blue of mother-sea. Balthazar had been telling the truth.  
  
Sam smiles and nods, handing the colour-rectangle back to red-lips. She is grinning too. Her smile is not kind. It unnerves him. He realizes he doesn’t know her name. Castiel knocks on the glass until he has their attention. He points at Sam and mouths his name. He points to red-lips and then points to the colour-rectangles, tilting his head in question.  
  
Red-lips looks surprised and confused, but Sam understands. He gestures at the top of the small-sea and Castiel flicks his tail. There is only enough room between the waves and the bars for him to bring one of his side-fans out of the water. He holds himself carefully to keep the gills on his neck underwater.  
  
Sam moves onto the rise next to the glass-wall and points to red-lips, “Meg.” He holds up the colour-rectangle for Castiel to see and he points at it, “Picture.”  
  
“Meg. Picture.” Castiel angles his face out of the water to repeat the words before he sinks down. He mouths her name at Meg and then mouths the new word, pointing at the pictures.  
  
Meg looks suitably surprised, her red mouth hanging open. She starts speaking excitedly to Sam and he stops her long enough to give her Castiel’s name. He recognizes the shape of his name on Sam’s lips. He nods and points to himself, mouthing his name. She grins and Castiel rewards her with a small quirk of his lips. So far Meg has acted on the side of smug-face and dark-skin and Castiel is still wary of her.  
  
She gestures grandly and shoves the stack of pictures into Sam’s arms before she leaves the room in a swirl of her white clothes. Castiel looks to Sam for an explanation and Sam is scowling at the wall-hole. Whatever Meg said, it is upsetting to Sam. Jess is similarly displeased and Castiel knocks on the glass-wall, trying to ask with his eyes about what could be bothering them. He wants to reach out and speak to their minds like he did with Dean, but Sam’s reaction on the reef and Dean’s earlier make him think twice about doing so.  
  
Sam waves Castiel off, shaking his head and pointing at the fish. Castiel makes a face and his gills ripple in distaste at the brush off. He grabs the nearest fish and throws it at the wall. It flops uselessly to the floor and Castiel retreats to a back corner of small-sea to sulk. He would never admit that what he’s doing is sulking. It is the action of a child and Castiel is a warrior and warriors do _not_  sulk.  
  
Jess and Sam sit at the flat-glows and do not move from there until Meg returns. Meg does not come back alone. She is with a female dressed in white clothes that are different from the white clothes that Sam and Jess wear over their other clothes. It is much longer, going almost all the way to the floor, and hangs off her shoulders on thin straps. This new female has rippling yellow hair that hangs past her shoulders and a wide mouth with red lips.  
  
She approaches the front glass-wall and smiles widely at Castiel, raising a dainty hand to wave at him. Castiel waves back purely to be polite. There is something about this female, something _off_. Like Meg.   
  
She mouths his name and taps on the glass. Castiel nods and her smile only gets bigger. She is very pretty, but the smile is cold and cruel. Castiel does not swim closer like he would with Sam or Jess or, if he would return, Dean. He folds his tail and closes his arms around it, pulling it tightly to his chest. He rests his chin on it and watches them as long-white turns to speak with Sam and Jess, the both of them are no longer sitting and they are watching this female with trepidation.  
  
Whatever she says to Sam makes his eyes go wide by a fraction and his lips press together in a thin line. Jess mirrors his expression and she looks up at him. Sam only nods, not to Jess but to long-white, and holds out his hand to Jess. She removes the necklace that she had given Dean earlier and hands it to Sam. He moves around the small-sea and onto the rise. Castiel watches from across his cage as Sam lifts the bars like earlier. Long-white takes his place on the rise.  
  
Jess, Sam and Meg wait a little behind her. Jess wrings her hands and shifts from side to side. She keeps looking up at Sam and he shakes his head slightly every time. He comes forward and knocks on the glass even though Castiel is already watching him. He crooks his fingers and gestures for him to come over. Castiel shakes his head and looks away, eyeing the grey fish laying scattered on the floor of small-sea. He barely trusts Sam and Jess. He does not trust this female.  
  
Sam speaks to the female and she is no longer smiling. She turns to Meg, speaking quickly with short and sharp words. Meg leaves as quickly as she did before. Jess is chewing on her bottom lip and keeps rocking back and forth. Now her hands are pulling at the edges of the white layer of her clothes. Sam is looking at Castiel with pleading eyes and Castiel only shakes his head again. He rubs his fingers over the bandage and Sam’s expression grows pained and sympathetic, as if he understands why Castiel is wary of new two-tails.  
  
Meg returns with her hand clamped firmly around Dean’s wrist. Dean is very loud with his protests as she drags him across the room. Castiel can almost make out Dean’s words through the glass and water. He is again pointedly refusing to look at Castiel. It is confusing and if Castiel is honest, it is a little hurtful. Dean had been nice to him from the very start and now he is ignoring him. Castiel hasn’t known him long, less than a day even. But it hurts because Castiel can’t trust any of the two-tails now. They keep on hurting him in new ways.  
  
Dean is taken to long-white and his voice immediately grows quiet. He speaks in low murmurs with his eyes adverted to the floor. His face is a hard mask. Long-white bends over, tucking her thin fingers under Dean’s chin and tilting his face up to hers. She smiles widely and Dean’s expression darkens. He jerks his chin from her hold and nods slowly. It is obvious that Sam, Jess and Dean don’t like this new female.  
  
Castiel lifts his head and his fans flair slightly with pleased surprise when Dean turns to the glass. He waves at Dean and gets a wave and a small, strained smile in return. Dean presses both hands against the glass and jerks his head in a small gesture for him to come closer. Castiel frowns and shakes his head. Long-white wants him over there. She wants to use his tentative new friends to get him to do what she wants and Castiel will not give her that satisfaction.  
  
Dean grimaces and rubs a hand over his face. He shakes his head and looks up at long-white, lips moving. Castiel reaches for Dean’s mind with caution. His first touch is tentative and gentle, but Dean still flinches. He looks away from long-white sharply and stares at him. Castiel looks back steadily and does it again. Dean pushes against the intrusion at first, subconsciously building walls around his mind.  
  
Castiel is persistent. He presses on Dean’s mind with his own emotions and projects images. With the mental image of long-white, he layers it with his wariness of her and his displeasure at her manipulation. Dean’s mind is full of surprise and fear and uncertainty at letting Castiel in. Castiel gets the impression that it is a new sensation to two-tails.  
  
All that he has seen of the two-tails indicates that their communication is based upon verbalization and physical movements of their body. They do not share their minds like the fin-kin. They have no kin-connection. Castiel pities them because they will never share the closeness that the fin-kin do. But he is in awe of them too. Even without the intimacy of the connection, they manage to form relationships without having a firm grasp of the thoughts or emotions of others.  
  
Castiel uses the barest of touches on Dean’s mind. He won’t betray Dean’s trust in him and he gently drags those thoughts along the edges of Dean’s own. He impresses upon him his hope that Dean will accept the connection. It will make communication much easier and Castiel will be able to learn things quickly.  
  
He pushes the image of long-white at Dean again and this time, he gets a response. Dean throws up several thoughts in response. A name, Lilith, and feelings of dislike, fear, and brief, miniscule flashes of respect and gratitutde. Castiel gets the notion that Lilith is of a higher rank than Dean, Sam, Jess or Meg.  
  
Lilith digs her fingers into Dean’s shoulder and her frown is almost frightening. She is tugging at him to make him move onto the rise next to her. She starts pulling at his clothes and Dean shifts away from her. His movements are clearly uncomfortable as he tries to resist while she pulls off his top layer of clothes and throws it aside. The next layer she starts to drag over his head.  
  
It is Dean’s discomfort, vibrating brightly along their thin connection, that brings Castiel to move. Water splashes over the glass-wall when he rises above the waves. Castiel holds his breath, flattening his gills to his neck, and grips the edge of the wall to hold himself there as he reaches out and grabs her wrist.  
  
“Lilith.” He hisses, jerking her arm so she lets go.  
  
She gasps in surprise and pulls away. Sam catches her when she falls off the rise. Castiel lets her go and he reaches to help adjust Dean’s clothes. “Dean?” He asks softly with his voice while touching his mind with cautious pleading.  
  
“It’s okay, Cas.” Dean shoves his clothes back down and starts pushing at Castiel’s shoulders to get him back in the water. His thoughts are calm and thankful, but strained with worry. Castiel drops into the small-sea, breathing deep when his gills are back under the water and Dean’s worry abates marginally.  
  
He stays just enough above the water to hear their words, hoping to learn new ones.  
  
“He _attacked_ me!” Lilith voice is loud, angry and panicked.  
  
“He thought you were attacking me,” Dean replies backs, his voice is rough and barely keeping level.  
  
“How did he know my name? Who told him?”  
  
Dean hesitates and Castiel feels his panic. He realizes that Dean doesn’t want to tell them about the connection. A flash of selfishness sparks across Dean’s mind and Castiel almost smiles in amusement. Dean sends a quick glare at him over his shoulder when Castiel’s feelings trickle back to him.  
  
“It was me.” Sam speaks up and all eyes turn to him, “I showed him photos of the crew and taught him a few names. He’s really intelligent and I think we need to reevaluate our plans regarding the study.”  
  
Jess was nodding next to him, “We could learn so much more about his kind if he’s willing to work with us!”  
  
Dean’s thoughts and emotions are a complex swirl of distaste and hope. Brief images of grey walls, orange clothes and bars flit across the connection. Castiel does not understand or recognize those images, but they are interspaced with thoughts of the open ocean. Remorse floods his mind and Castiel raises his eyes from the heated conversation between Lilith, Sam and Jess.  
  
Dean is frowning at the floor, but he keeps glancing at Castiel. Shame and guilt and all forms of apology choke the connection and Castiel realizes with some surprise that Dean is _sorry_  that Castiel is trapped. Dean is disgusted that Castiel in a cage.  
  
Castiel accepts the feelings, and he does nothing to try and soothe them. He thinks it is right that Dean feels that way. The two-tails should never have captured him. Dean may not have been one of the ones who actually put him, but he is still one of them and has done nothing to try and free him.  
  
Lilith clears her throat, “Dean.”  
  
He flinches and spins around to face her, “Yes, boss?”  
  
“Have you been paying attention?”  
  
“Not even slightly, ma’am.”  
  
Lilith’s red lips pull into a frown and she gestures at Castiel, he perks, side-fans flaring slightly, “Sam says he likes you and he doesn’t like at least half of the research team.”  
  
“Half your research team is Alistair and Gordon. They’re dicks. It’s really not all that surprising.” Dean shrugs, shoving his hands into the folds of the clothes on his legs.  
  
She frowns more, likely at being interrupted, “I want you here.”  
  
Sharp bursts of surprise fill Dean’s mind and his shoulders go rigid. Castiel tilts his head and studies the side of Dean’s face as the surprise melts into annoyance.  
  
“I’m not a scientist.”  
  
“No, but he likes you. You can help keep him under control.”  
  
“No offense, Lilith, but I’m a goddamn _mechanic_. I keep this stupid tub running.” He gestures wide with both hands as he comes down off the rise, “If you keep me locked up in here with Cas, I’m gonna be next to useless and bored out of my wits.”  
  
Sam cringes, “Oh God, a bored Dean is the worst torture you can inflict on a person.”  
  
Dean lifts his hand in a fist, middle finger raised and sticks his tongue out at Sam, “Shut it, bitch.”  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
Lilith reaches out and cups Dean’s cheeks with her hands, smiling sweetly. Dean’s hand drops and he sucks his tongue into his mouth quickly, eyes wide. Castiel frowns as Dean’s thoughts tighten with discomfort. A low growl rumbles in his chest and Lilith immediately withdraws, side-glancing at  Castiel. Instead, she pats Dean’s shoulder.  
  
“I’m sure your brother will find plenty for you to do here. And if anything does happens to break on this ‘tub’, I do have _other_  mechanics on staff.” She smiles that dangerous smile that makes Castiel’s fans fold close at the sight of it, “It’s nearly dinner time. I’ll have someone bring your rations and we’ll get a cot set up in here.”  
  
Dean’s rage bursts brightly through the connection and his fingers fold into fists at his side, “It’s awesome that you agreed to give me a job in the first place, but I’ve got a _contract_  to work on _machines_. You can’t lock me up in here too.”  
  
“Well I’m just adding an addendum to the contract.” She pats his cheek and sweeps past, “But don’t think of it like that. You can come and go to use the washroom and stretch your legs, but I do expect you to spend the majority of your time with Castiel. Besides, I figure you of all people are used to being _locked up_.”  
  
“But why me? I’ve barely spent any time in here!”  
  
“And yet you’ve managed to have the most contact with him and he trusts you the most. Funny how that works, hm?” Lilith replies over her shoulder.  
  
Meg is grinning happily by Jess’s shoulder. She chuckles, ignoring the dark looks sent her way by Sam, Jess and Dean. With a shrug, she follows when Lilith gestures for her to keep up. Dean sneers at their backs and makes the gesture with his middle finger again.  
  
“Dean?” Castiel asks softly, resting his hands on the edge of the glass-wall and lifting himself slightly out of the water. He tilts his head and pushes his concern at him.  
  
He shakes his head, slumping against the glass-wall until he slides down to sit on the rise. Castiel drops underwater and sinks until he is level with Dean. Sam speaks to Dean softly, his voice barely heard through the glass-wall. He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder and Dean brushes it off. Castiel continues to push at Dean’s mind, wanting to know what’s happening.

Frustration echoes over the connection and it’s followed with images. Castiel recognizes the room and his small-sea. He sees himself and next to it is Dean sitting on a low flat ledge. Thick bars fall over the image and a confining panic flicks through it all. Castiel frowns when he understands.  
  
He shields his own thoughts and feelings from Dean. He doesn’t think Dean will like that he is a little happy that Dean can better understand now how Castiel feels. He is happy because Dean will be nearby, and he will keep smug-face and dark-skin away. But Castiel is also displeased that the two-tails would cage one of their own when he has done nothing wrong.  
  
Castiel settles against the floor, brushing Dean’s mind regularly as Sam and Jess speak with him. He watches with mild interest as Meg returns with four white square containers that she shares with the other two-tails. They eat thin golden things, dark brown cubes, and a pile of flat green things. Castiel eats the grey fish and frowns at Dean when he laughs when he makes faces at the taste of them.  
  
He presses at Dean’s mind with the memories of the succulent taste of fish fresh from the ocean. The joy of hunting and swimming in the open sea. He overflows the connection and takes pleasure in watching Dean reel back at the memories of his family, of the feeling of home and being amongst his brethren and the pain at being separated from them.  
  
He feels the first wash of Dean’s sympathy and sorrow before Castiel severs the connection. Dean is trembling and staring with wide apologetic eyes. His white-square of food has fallen to the floor. Castiel glares back for a few moments before gathering the bones from his meal and dumping them into the bucket hanging from one corner of the small-sea where Sam had placed it earlier.  
  
Castiel curls in the farthest corner of his small-sea. He hugs his chest and flicks his tail over his head, fans spreading over his shoulders. He hears the bars closing over the water and the muffled sounds of talking and movement. Castiel ignores it all as he tries to stamp down the melancholy emotions that rises up with thoughts of his colony. He waits until he falls asleep.

x

The lights are dimmed again and there is a new addition to the room when Castiel wakes. A low ledge has been set up in the empty space to the right of his small-sea. Dean is sleeping on it, curled under a long, wide piece of cloth. At the end, where the tips of Dean’s two-tails lay, there is a taller grey box.  
  
Castiel stretches. He feels much better than he did when he went to sleep. He feels momentary regret at his actions earlier with Dean. Dean is new to the kin-connection and Castiel should never have used it in anger like he did.  
  
He touches Dean’s sleeping mind and smiles when Dean twitches. Dean rubs his face into a thick square of white and frowns, but he does not wake. Base emotions from his dream drift across to Castiel and it is soothing to have them play in the background of his mind. It almost feels like home.  
  
Like the night before, Castiel swims laps around his small-sea. He stretches and practices the forms taught to him as a warrior, keeping himself limber. Castiel is in the middle of a particularly complex pose when he feels amusement that isn’t his own.  
  
 _(I didn’t know mermaids did yoga.)  
  
_ Castiel accidentally slaps himself in the face with his own tail as he tries to unfold to see Dean. Dean is sitting on the edge of his sleeping ledge. His hair is tousled and sticking in many directions, but his grin is sleepy and lopsided. The words in Castiel’s mind are nonsense to him and his confusion only makes Dean smile more.  
  
 _(Dean?)  
  
_ Dean rubs at his eyes and yawns. An image of Castiel flickers through the connection. It is followed with images of other fin-kin, none that Castiel recognizes, and Dean gives a word to the images. _(Mermaid.)  
  
_ Castiel frowns because that word is not what they are and he shakes his head. He sends back images of his colony and the enemy colony. _(Fin-kin.)  
  
_ _(Fin-kin? Huh. Cool. So you guys talk with your minds then? That’s very ‘Charles Xavier’ of you.)  
  
_ He laughs when all Castiel responds with is confusion. Dean stretches his arms above his head before fumbling blindly at the top of the tall-box. He grabs a small shell-like something and flicks it open. Castiel sends his surprise across the connection when a light from within the shell illuminates Dean’s face. Dean squints and frowns at the shell before closing it and tossing it aside.  
  
Castiel pushes the image of the shell at Dean. Silently asking what it is with his eyes and brushing his curiosity along the edges of the image.  
  
Dean yawns again and scratches at his stomach. He blinks blearily at Castiel. _(Phone.)_  The word is accompanied with several images of the shells and two-tails holding them open to their odd fleshy side-shells. The memories move and the two-tails talk into the shells and Castiel understands the two-tails use them to communicate over long distances. How the shells do that is beyond him and it makes his head hurt a little to try and figure it out.  
  
Instead, he presses against the glass and fixes Dean with a look. He sends his memory of earlier and rings it with regret. Dean shrugs his shoulders and flaps his hand, waving it off because he forgives him. Castiel smiles and Dean returns it before yawning again and lying flat on his sleep ledge, eyes closed.  
  
 _(Dean?)  
  
_ _(Cas.)  
  
_ _(Are you going to sleep?)_  He adds images of sleeping, soaked with curiosity to his words.  
  
Dean smiles, though his eyes are closed and he shakes his head. _(No.)  
  
_ Castiel taps on the glass until Dean opens his eyes and looks at him. He shoves images of Dean, Sam, Jess and the others at him. _(Two-tails.)  
  
_ He laughs again. _(Humans.)  
  
_ They spend the rest of the night swapping words and images. By the time Sam arrives, Castiel knows what everything in the room is and what it is used for. He knows the names for smug-face and dark-skin. He knows that the different types of clothing the humans wear have different names. He knows the names humans have for things in the ocean. And in turn, Dean knows the very few names that the fin-kin have for human things.  
  
At one point, Dean had gotten up to get a flat-rock and small-stick. According to Dean, the flat-rock is something called a ‘clip-board’ and is used to hold ‘paper’. The small-stick is actually a ‘pen’ and humans use them to write on the paper. Writing is something humans do to keep records of things. Castiel taught Dean that fin-kin use song to record their history and they pass the songs from generation to generation. Dean made a list of all the words they exchanged so that he won’t forget. Castiel is pleased that Dean is making an effort to share as much as he is learning.  
  
Sam is surprised that Dean is awake when he walks in. Because walking is how humans move from place to place. They walk on their feet, which are the appendages on the ends of their legs. They don’t have tails. Dean grins and nods at Castiel. He shares most of his thoughts with Dean now, and Dean gives as best as he can. This way, Castiel can learn to communicate faster.  
  
Dean is telling Sam about what he’s learned throughout the night. Castiel waits under the moveable bars. Jess is the only one with the key and Castiel has to wait for her to arrive before Dean can unlock the bars and lift them. Castiel is swimming in circles impatiently. He is excited and wants to show Sam what he has learned from Dean.  
  
The moment Jess comes through the door, Castiel knocks on the glass. _(Dean. Key!)  
  
_ Laughing, Dean gets the key and steps up onto the platform next to the small-sea. Castiel likes using his own words for some of the human things. ‘Tank’ or ‘pool’ just don’t sound right to him. Small-sea is nicer. The bars lift and Castiel slips up out of the water. He holds his breath and leans over the glass,  smiling brightly at them.  
  
“Sam! Jess! Good morning!”  
  
They both have the same expression of surprise and Dean laughs. He pats Castiel on the shoulder before shoving him back into the water. Castiel chuckles and flicks water at him before swimming enthusiastic circles around the small-sea. He pokes his head out again to hear their conversation. Dean translates into emotions and images as best he can.  
  
“It’s great that he knows stuff, Dean, but _how_?” Sam is running his hands through his hair and he sounds worried, “He knew Lilith’s _name_  and none of us told him. And I know you. You don’t have the patience to stand here all night while Cas alternates his ears and mouth out of the water to talk. We let it go yesterday because we were moving you in here, but seriously, man, you _have_  to tell me what’s going on.”  
  
“Dean, if Lilith or Meg checks the tapes, they’re going to know that Sam lied.” Jess is frowning, her hand on Sam’s arm.  
  
Dean bites his lip and looks to Castiel. He shrugs again and rubs at the back of his neck.  
  
“Telepathy.” Castiel says for him and he reaches out to tap a wet finger against Dean’s temple, “Dean. Castiel. Telepathy.”  
  
With a snort, Dean slaps his hand away. But he gives Castiel another lopsided grin before turning to his brother. Sam and Jess are staring at them with wide eyes and open mouths again.  
  
“He… what? Dean, _what_?!”  
  
“They call it the kin-connection, but it’s basically telepathy. His colony uses it to communicate, but apparently there are other, uh, ‘breeds’ of fin-kin who talk with voices.” Dean shrugs and dips his hand into the water, swirling his fingers absently, “He was in my head yesterday afternoon. It kinda surprised me. S’why I walked into the door frame.”  
  
Sam is rubbing at his face with one hand, eyes darting from Dean to Castiel and back, “This is… wow. Holy shit, this is amazing! Mermaids are telepathic!”  
  
“No, dude. Didn’t you hear me?” Dean points at the clipboard, “They’re called ‘fin-kin’.”  
  
Castiel nods in agreement, pointing at himself, “Fin-kin.” He points at Sam and Jess, “Humans.”  
  
“See? He gets it. Good lil’ smarty-pants!” Dean reaches over and ruffles his hair.  
  
Jerking away, Castiel makes an indignant noise low in his throat and splashes at him, “Dean!”  
  
Dean laughs and jumps down from the platform, “I’m going to go grab a shower and some breakfast. Cas, you hungry?” He pushes images of the grey fish and Castiel eating them.  
  
“Yes. Please.” Castiel smiles and is about to sink into the water when Sam grabs Dean’s arm and gestures for Castiel to stay.  
  
“Can you tell him that we’d like to take measurements this morning? Just with the tape. It won’t hurt or anything.”  
  
Dean shrugs and scratches at the back of his head, “Yeah, sure. He’ll probably be okay with that.” He goes around to the other side of the small-sea and pulls a change of clothes out from the drawers at the end of his bed.  
  
Castiel pushes his curiosity at him and Dean answers with images of a thin strip of white held along Castiel’s tail then along his arms. He gives him images of the same thin-white held along Dean’s arm and his leg, and wrapped around his chest. Dean gives it a name. _(Measuring tape. Sam will use the measuring tape.)  
  
_ “Sam.” Castiel calls, holding his breath and lifting himself by the edge of the glass, “Measuring tape. Yes.”  
  
“Holy shit.” Sam breathes, wide eyes looking between Dean and Castiel, “You really are using telepathy.”  
  
“I wasn’t blowing smoke outta my ass, Sammy.” Dean grins, gathering his bundle of clothes and a small brown pouch, “I’ll be back in half an hour or something. If Alistair or Gordon show up, kick ‘em the hell out or tell them if they even try to touch Cas, I’ll kick their asses into next week. Got me?”  
  
Jess waves her hand, “Don’t worry. We’re more than capable of watching him.”  
  
Dean laughs and waves over his shoulder as he leaves, “See ya later, Cas!”  
  
“Goodbye, Dean.” Castiel lets the connection drop to give Dean privacy during his morning rituals.  
  
He sinks to the floor of his small-sea and watches Sam and Jess turn on all the computers and machines. They’re talking excitedly to one another and pause repeatedly to smile at him. Castiel nods and smiles back, pleased. He thinks of making the kin-connection with one of them, but Dean had seemed unwilling to share knowledge of the link to start with. Castiel decides to wait to speak to Dean about it.  
  
Meg arrives and takes her place at one of the computers. Sam and Jess stop talking then. They share furtive glances with Castiel and Sam presses a finger to the middle of his lips while she isn’t looking. Castiel frowns at the gesture and repeats it. Humans talk with their mouths. To cover the mouth like this must be a signal to remain quiet.  
  
Sam gathers a few items and he and Jess come around to the platform. He steps up onto it and Castiel rises to meet him. Jess has her clipboard and pen ready. Sam is holding the measuring tape.  
  
“Hey Cas.”  
  
He tilts his head, “Sam.”  
  
“Um, so, I don’t know how much of what I’m saying you’ll actually understand. But we’d like to take some measurements now.” He holds up the measuring tape, letting it unroll and trail down the side of the glass-wall, “We’re going to start with your head, if you don’t mind.”  
  
Castiel frowns as he tries to sort through the words for one he recognizes.  
  
“Show him what you want to do.” Jess suggests, poking Sam in the shoulder with the pen.  
  
Sam holds the end of the measuring tape at the center of his forehead and wraps the rest of it around his head. Then he gestures at Castiel, motioning for him to come closer. Castiel huffs a breath through his nose before holding in another and rising up for Sam to wrap the tape around his head. Castiel goes cross-eyed trying to look at the point where Sam is holding it to his forehead.  
  
He pulls it away and says nonsense things to Jess that she writes down. Then he gently tilts Castiel’s head to the side. He holds the tape to his side-fan. Without needing to be asked, Castiel spreads the spines and is rewarded with a pleased smile. When he steps away, Sam taps at Castiel’s shoulder. It is a simple sign that it is alright for Castiel to drop back underwater to breathe.  
  
Through this way, they measure Castiel’s shoulder width, the length of his arms and his hands and fingers. They measure the length and spread of his back-fans and Castiel has to flatten those as tightly to his body as he can when they wrap the tape around his chest.  
  
Dean returns while Castiel is upside down, his waist and tail draped over the edge of the glass while Sam measures the length and width of his tails and his fans. Castiel drums his fingers on the glass and tries to hold his tail still while flaring his fans. It is hard to do when his scales itch with drying sea water.  
  
He curves his body and lifts his head when there is knocking on the glass. He smiles at Dean and rolls his eyes at the amused grin before slumping forward against the wall. Dean knocks again and this time Castiel simply twists to look at him from the corner of his eye. He has a finger to his temple and keeps tapping at it.  
  
Castiel brushes his mind and is surprised to find relief amongst the amusement. His shoulders, held in a tense line that Castiel hadn’t noticed before, relax. Dean sends an image of what Castiel looks like hanging over the edge and his glee at the position. Castiel raises his hand, his fingers in a fist, and lifts his middle finger.  
  
Dean’s laughter echoes loudly through the water.  
  
Castiel is grateful when Sam slips his hands under his tail and lifts him back over the wall. His stomach is sore from where the glass edge was pressed into it. He rubs at it and then touches his scales, smoothing his fingers over them. His tail still feels weird and he wonders how long until it will feel normal again.  
  
 _(Hungry, Cas?)_  The words are accompanied with the sensation of hunger and images of fish.  
  
 _(Yes, Dean. I’m hungry. You’ve only given me food once a day.)_  Castiel flicks his tail and he is across the small-sea quickly. He gives Dean the impression of two days’ time and only two feedings.  
  
 _(Sorry, sorry.)_  Dean frowns, apologetic, but hoists a large bucket into view.  
  
Castiel follows along the glass while Dean carries the bucket around the small-sea. Sam jumps down from the platform to help him raise it above their heads and tilt it over the edge of the wall. Water sloshes out and with it come several small brightly coloured fish. They are alive and dart about the small-sea. Castiel stills, his eyes wide as he watches them.  
  
 _(Have fun. I’ll give you the dead ones later at dinner time.)_  Dean grins, supplying the image of the grey fish and the sensation of passed time.  
  
 _(Thank you, Dean!)_  Castiel flashes a happy grin at him before setting about chasing the fish.  
  
It is a fun exercise. Castiel is breathless by the time he has caught and eaten the last one. The fish taste like they did in the sea, rich in flavor and memories of home. Castiel stretches out along the floor and sucks lazily at the bones, watching as Dean and Sam talk. From Dean’s mind he gets the impression that Sam is asking Dean more questions about Castiel. Dean is both amused and annoyed by them.  
  
 _(Cas.)_  Dean approaches the wall, his hands in his pockets, _(They want to take x-rays.)  
  
_ Castiel tilts his head and waits for the images that Dean provides. He receives thoughts of a machine like a camera that takes pictures of a person’s insides. Dean gives him black and white images of bones and internal organs. And Castiel’s fans flare in surprise as he jerks up from the floor. They want to see inside of him!  
  
 _(Whoa! Hey, Cas. Calm down!)_  Dean soothes him while pressing his hands against the glass-wall. _(If you don’t want to do it, it’s okay.)  
  
_ He turns and speaks to his brother. Sam’s shoulders sag. Castiel doesn’t need a kin-connection to know that Sam is disappointed. Meg speaks over her shoulder at them and both Sam and Dean still before looking to each other. Whatever Meg said leaves Dean surprised and thoughtful.  
  
Dean gives Castiel an image of the x-ray camera being pointed at Castiel. He balks at it, but then Dean supplies an image of the x-ray camera pointed at his own chest. He raises questioning eyebrows at Castiel. The images come side by side and then Dean first followed by Castiel.  
  
Frowning, Castiel fidgets with the bones. Dean is offering to be subjected to the x-ray camera too if it means Castiel will do it.  
  
 _(It’s safe and it’s not gonna hurt, Cas. I promise. Please? It’ll make Sammy happy.)  
  
_ Castiel wraps his arms around his chest and swims in a tight circle until his back is presented to them. Dean’s disappointment and irritation filters through and Castiel shakes his head. It’s one thing to allow a human into his mind through the kin-connection. It is another thing entirely, too personal and too intimate, to allow them to see his insides.  
  
He pushes those thoughts at Dean, hoping that he’ll understand.  
  
Dean withdraws. _(Yeah, okay. I get it, Cas, I get it. It’s fine.)_

 

x

Alistair and Gordon return when Dean is getting their dinners. Meg is sitting at the glass with a thick stack of papers. Before he had left, Dean had explained that she was drawing an image of Castiel. Dean had gotten her to show Castiel a few drawings. Castiel is trying to hold still so she can get the drawing just right. But when Alistair and Gordon come through the door, he jerks away to the far side of the small-sea.  
  
All day the humans have left the bars raised so Castiel can speak, however stilted, to Sam and Jess without being uncomfortable. He rises up now, flattening his gills while holding his breath, and peers over the wall at the two who hurt him the day before.  
  
“No!” He hisses, side-fans flaring.  
  
“So it _can_  speak! Will wonders never cease.” Alistair sneers, his tone condescending and Castiel doesn’t need to know his words to know he is being arrogant.  
  
“And we haven’t even said why we’ve come by.” Gordon mutters, glaring hard at Sam as he places himself between the small-sea and the other humans, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that we work on this project too?”  
  
“You kind of forfeited that right when you treated Castiel like an animal before finding out just how smart he really is.” Jess snaps back, taking her place next to Sam as Castiel sinks low enough to breathe, “What do you want?"  
  
Alistair holds up a hollow tube with a needle point, “Its blood.”  
  
“ _His_  name is _Castiel_  and you can wait until Dean gets back to ask Cas if he’s okay with that.”  
  
“We don’t need Winchester’s permission to do our damn _job_.” Gordon’s upper lip curls in a growl.  
  
“Cas refused an x-ray because it was too invasive. I highly doubt he’s going to be okay with you taking his blood.” Sam’s voice is a disapproving rumble.  
  
He pulls something from his pocket that Castiel can’t see and hands it to Jess. She steps away and flips open a phone. She holds it to her ear and glares heatedly at Alistair and Gordon, who continue to snap at Sam just as much as Sam snaps back at them. They use sharp, angry words.  
  
Castiel hisses again, just to get his point across. “No.” He will have nothing to do with these two.  
  
“Dean.” Jess says into the phone, “You need to get back here now.” She flicks it closed and hands it back to Sam.  
  
Alistair rolls his eyes, “Oh no, you’ve called back the convict. I’m positively _shaking_  in my boots.”  
  
“Don’t. Call. Him. That.” Sam hisses, his teeth clenched.  
  
“I horse is a horse, Sammy. And a convict is your brother. Refresh my memory… What did he do again?”  
  
Sam’s response is cut short when a fish hits Alistair in the back of the head. Dean stomps through the door and Castiel reaches for his mind immediately. He isn’t surprised by the tempest of rage that clouds Dean’s thoughts. His face is dark and his body tight with anger.  
  
“You know damn well what I did and you’re going to _leave it alone_.” Dean snarls. He picks up the fish and forces past Gordon and Alistair, knocking them aside with his shoulders. “And I’m the only one allowed to call him 'Sammy'.”  
  
Now that Dean is back, Castiel sinks beneath the waves. He ignores the fish when Dean dumps them over the edge and he listens through Dean’s impressions of the conversation. Dean is very unhappy that Alistair and Gordon are back. Dean shows Castiel what they want with images of the needle in his arm and drawing out the red of his blood.  
  
 _(No! Dean, no! No x-ray! No needle!)_  He shakes his head violently and retreats to the back of small-sea.  
  
Dean shouts loudly until Alistair and Gordon leave. But he can’t coax Castiel away from his corner. The others eat their supper while Castiel lays curled, holding himself tightly. Dean stays mostly quiet, offering only soothing apologies and promises that they won’t do anything that Castiel doesn’t want. Castiel does not respond.  
  
It is a long time before he twists onto his back to watch Sam close and lock the bars. Castiel raises his hand in a lazy goodbye when Sam, Jess and Meg leave. The lights dim and Castiel rolls onto his stomach. He pushes himself up on his elbows and rests his chin in his hands. He watches as Dean shuts the door and goes to his bed.  
  
Dean sheds his shirts, pulling the last over his head. Castiel watches the muscles move across his back as he bends to remove his jeans. He frowns at the jagged scar above his left hip and he brushes the image and his curiosity against Dean’s thoughts. Dean jerks at the sudden touch and he turns around.  
  
 _(Jeeze, Cas. Don’t do that! I thought you were sleeping.)  
  
_ Castiel ignores that because it was mostly nonsense words. He only understood one of them and he wasn’t sleeping and neither was Dean. Therefore there is no need for him to mention it. He pushes the scar image again. Dean winces and sits on the edge of his bed to run a hand through his hair. He is hesitant to share the story and Castiel can feel him trying to withdraw from the connection.  
  
He is about to let it drop when the memory surges forth in dark flashes. It sends Castiel’s mind staggering at the weight of it. A younger Dean, fists bloodied, lip split, fighting in a darkened space. Dean’s memories provide the word ‘alley’. Dean’s anger at the ones he’s fighting. His fear because Sammy is there and Sammy is wrong and stupid and he’s going to kick his ass later. There are too many enemies and their hands are on his arms. The flash of silver and a pinching pain in his side that begins to burns. Sammy’s shouting and red everywhere. So much red and it’s all _his_.  
  
The memory breaks off sharply and Castiel comes back to himself with ragged gasps and the sting of tears in his eyes. He is reminded of battle, where the kin-connection is kept to its bare minimum to protect fin-kin from moments like this. It would be too distracting during a fight to be able to feel the pain of other fin-kin before they die and the connection is severed brutally. He understands _why_  now, better than he ever did before.  
  
 _(Cas, you okay?)_  Dean’s eyes are worried and he’s standing at the glass, hands and forehead pressed against it.  
  
Castiel crosses the small-sea with a sharp flick of his tail. He presses his forehead to the glass over Dean’s and covers his hands with his. He feels the phantom pain of the knife in his skin as though it had actually happened to him and he makes soft keening noises in his throat. Dean smothers Castiel’s mind with calm murmurs of his name and hushes him.  
  
 _(It’s okay, Cas. It’s okay. It was a long time ago and I’m fine now. Don’t worry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was gonna affect you like this. Christ, you’re crying. Cas, c’mon man. You gonna be okay?)  
  
_ _(Yes, Dean.)_  He shudders and opens his eyes. Dean is right there and he’s smiling softly.  
  
 _(Eat your fish and get some rest. Sam wants to do more tests in the morning. No x-ray or needles, promise.)  
  
_ Castiel looks over his shoulder at the grey fish, still resting dead and bland on the floor of the small-sea where Dean dumped them. He crinkles his nose at them and then sticks his tongue out at Dean when he laughs. Dean laughs harder at that and stumbles back to flop onto his bed. He wriggles until he gets the blanket over himself.  
  
When he looks over, Castiel is sitting in the nearest corner and chewing slowly on the tail of a fish. After Dean’s painful memories, he doesn’t have much of an appetite now. Castiel tilts his head and looks at him. Dean’s eyebrows are drawn together in a frown and his lips are pursed.  
  
 _(Colony. Tell me about your family.)  
  
_ Castiel slowly lowers the fish he is eating. At the mention of his family, the same heavy weight settles in his stomach and his chest tightens. He presses a hand to his sternum and rubs, eyes downcast. He lets Dean feel his sadness, but he doesn’t withdraw like he did before. Castiel draws up his memories of his family and he passes them along to Dean, naming his nest-brothers and sisters as he does.  
  
Dean’s eyes are drooping as Castiel starts listing the members of other nests. He slows and stops when Dean’s eyes fully close and his thoughts and emotions fade into dreams. Castiel is no longer hungry. He gathers the fish and puts them in the waiting bucket. They will not keep in these warm waters.  
  
Castiel curls in the corner closest to Dean. He hugs his folded tail to his chest, his shoulder pressed into the corner and his head resting against the glass. He watches Dean sleep and hums lullabies until he drops off too.


	4. Suffocating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel stops listening. His thoughts have turned to Balthazar and Gabriel, to Anna and Lucifer, to Michael and Raphael and his family, to his colony. He’s going to die here, staring at the ceiling of a room on a boat as a science project of a bunch of humans. He’s never going to see his loved ones again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it's hard to figure out, Castiel and Dean talk in full sentences to each other but they're connection is getting to the point where they pass thoughts/images under their words. I've stopped describing the image process. 
> 
> I hope that doesn't take away from anything.
> 
> And in case you don't know: I am totally, eventually, writing inter-species gay sex. DESTIEL SURPASSES ALL BARRIERS.
> 
>  
> 
> **I've added a beautiful piece of[art work](http://mysterymind277.tumblr.com/post/37561949207/as-a-hatchling-castiel-used-to-sleep-curled-in-a) by [mystermind277](http://mysterymind277.tumblr.com).**

When Castiel wakes the next morning, Dean is gone. The covers of his bed are pulled neatly over its surface and his night clothes are folded over the pillow. There are only two humans in the room. One he recognizes and one he does not.  
  
Meg is sitting quietly by the front of the small-sea, drawing again. She waves when she sees that he is awake. Castiel waves back distractedly as he searches for Dean. He can feel Dean’s mind but the link is weak, distant, and Dean does not answer him when he calls his name. While calling for him, Castiel watches the new human.  
  
The human that Castiel does not recognize is standing on a platform comprised of smaller tiers at the front-left corner of the small-sea. He’s shorter than Dean and Sam and he’s wearing a thing that Dean calls a ‘hat’. His beard is thicker and covers more of his face than Alistair’s or Gordon’s beards do. Bearded-one has his arms in the water, affixing a thick black square against the glass. Meg catches his eye and points to the front-right corner where a similar square is already in place.  
  
Castiel draws away from them, settling in the center of the grey-wall again where he can keep an eye on both the black-squares. He doesn’t know what they are and Dean is not answering. Sam and Jess aren’t here either and something like panic starts to make Castiel’s chest feel tight. His fingers pick at the bandage around his wrist and he prods at the little flicker of Dean’s mind that he can feel.  
  
Bearded-one steps down slowly, one tier at a time. His hands are wet and he dries them on a strip of cloth hanging from his pocket. On open box is resting on the ledge and from it bearded-one takes a thin arch of black. It ends in flat circles and one circle has an attached stick with a bulbous ending. He hands it to Meg and she slips it over the top of her head and adjusts the little stick so the bulb is by her mouth.  
  
She smiles at him and Castiel doesn’t like her smile. It makes him feel cold. Castiel thinks Meg is like a lure-fish, using her smile to bait before she bites. He does not smile back. She picks up a clipboard from the table next to her before she puts her fingers to one of the flat circles. Little red lights blink to life on the black-squares and Castiel sits up straighter, eyes darting from one to the other.  
  
There is a crackle of noise and Castiel’s side-fans flare to catch it. Then it dies away leaving only  the sound of Meg’s voice. It is dampened by the water, but Castiel can hear it clearly over the muted tones of her actual voice coming through the glass. He watches her lips move and matches them to the words in the water.  
  
“Good morning, Castiel. Did you have a good sleep?”  
  
He stares at her, eyes wide. Castiel understands, roughly. He recognizes the greeting and the ‘good’ and ‘sleep’ and the upward lilt at the end of her words as a question. He thinks she is asking if he slept well and he did. With the comfort of the connection to Dean’s mind, Castiel slept deeply and without dreams. He nods and she smiles, writing something on the clipboard.  
  
Castiel uncurls his tail and, with a small roll of his body, he swims closer. He keeps glancing at the black-squares, but they do not move. The light-points on them flick off when Meg moves her hand from the head-arch. She turns her head and speaks to bearded-one and this time Castiel does not hear her voice.  
  
He knocks on the glass until he has her attention again. He tilts his head in question and points at bearded-one. She puts her fingers to the flat-circle again, the lights flick on and the crackle makes him wince.  
  
“Bobby.”  
  
Castiel nods. Bearded-one is named Bobby.  
  
He skims the surface of the small-sea. The bars are down this morning and Castiel thinks maybe Sam and Jess haven’t arrived yet. He pushes his face above the waves.  
  
“Good morning, Bobby. Meg.”  
  
Bobby’s eyebrows rise up almost all the way to his hat. He doesn’t say anything, but he nods at Castiel and starts doing something with a new black-box. It is much bigger than the other two and has a small protrusion on the front. Bobby uses odd little items that Castiel doesn’t recognize on the back of the box. Castiel presses himself close to the glass and watches attentively, memorizing their shape so he can show them to Dean later and find out their names.  
  
Meg is laughing softly behind her hand. Castiel doesn’t understand what she finds amusing and he ignores her in favour of watching Bobby. Meg returns to her drawing and Bobby continues to work on the big-box.  
  
Castiel starts to feel twitchy and he finds it difficult to hold still. He has slept much later than he intended and he hasn’t done his exercises yet. He is hungry and worried because Dean is gone and not answering the connection. Their link is too weak to even get the most basic of emotions through it. All Castiel has is the sense that their minds are connected. It is troubling and distracting.  
  
Dean is supposed to be _here_. Castiel knows this. It’s only been one day since Lilith ordered Dean to stay with Castiel. The change in the plans, after only one day, is unsettling. His fans tremble lightly with the first hints of anxiety and Castiel breathes deep to try and keep himself calm. If Dean and Sam and Jess aren’t here, then Alistair and Gordon could return at any time.  
  
He knows how to protect himself. He’s already proved himself a fighter. But Castiel is worried because he doesn’t know what Alistair or Gordon might bring. Humans have so many _things_ that Castiel doesn’t know about. He doesn’t know how to fight against them, or defend himself from them.  
  
Bobby moves from the ledge and picks up his tiered-platform. Castiel’s full attention is back on him. He carries it to the middle of the front-wall. Meg has to move her chair over to make room for him. He attaches the big-box to a long stick. Standing on his tiered-platform, he lowers the stick into the small-sea.  
  
Castiel hisses and flares his fans before darting away to the grey-wall. This stick looks nothing like the ‘dart-gun’ that Dean named as the rod-weapon. Dean isn’t here to explain what this stick and the box are and Castiel is very wary and very unhappy. He gathers everything in his mind and reaches out to Dean, pulling at that small flicker of presence with all he has.  
  
_(Dean!)_    
  
He pleads at the connection, begging wordlessly for his return. Panic swells in a stiff bubble behind his ribs and Castiel forces it at the link, hoping it gets through to Dean.  
  
Bobby uses the stick to press the big-box to the glass. He withdraws it, leaving the big-box sticking to the glass nearly half a tail-length from the floor. Castiel swims in tight circles along the length of the grey-wall, flexing his fingers.  
  
When Bobby leaves, he takes the ledge-box and stick with him. Meg is left alone and she taps at the glass, pointing at the big-box. Castiel’s fans flare and he growls low in his throat, shaking his head. He’s not going near it until Dean tells him what it is. Castiel twists up to the surface and slaps at the bars with his tail, frustrated that they are closed today.  
  
He hisses into the air “ _Dean!_ ” before rolling down through the water and back to the floor. Meg frowns and rolls her eyes. She gets up from her chair and moves to the ledge along the opposite wall. He can’t see what she does with her back turned to him, but she has her hand on her hip and she’s leaning over the machine Dean said was another type of phone.  
  
Castiel’s stomach and chest feel tight and his breaths come in quick, sharp, painful bursts. Meg puts down the phone and lifts her fingers to the flat-circle. The crackle starts from the small-boxes again and Castiel claps his hands over his side-fans to block out her voice. He mouths Dean’s name at her and shakes his head.  
  
The connection with Dean flickers and Castiel stills. He ignores Meg completely and claws at the thin link, trying to make it wider, trying to strengthen it. Without warning it blooms forcefully, swamping Castiel’s agitation with a burst of concern and a flood of thoughts. Dean is reaching for him and Castiel welcomes the touch, drawing comfort from Dean’s mind.  
  
_(Cas? What’s wrong?)  
  
_ Castiel sends the memories of Bobby and the stick and the boxes. Of Meg’s voice in the water. He sends his worry that Alistair and Gordon will return. His confusion and anger that Dean is gone.  
  
_(Shit, Cas. I’m sorry! Just calm down, okay? I’m coming back.)_  
  
Dean is apologetic and it only makes Castiel angrier. He doesn’t want Dean’s apologies, he wants an explanation. He wants the boxes removed from the small-sea. He’s hungry and he wants to hunt. He wants the taste of the ocean on his tongue and the rush of the currents in his gills.  
  
He wants to go _home_.  
  
Dean and Sam return together. Sam is carrying a wide box that is a few hand spans deep. The bottom half is blue and the top half is white. He puts it on the floor and slides it under the ledge and out of the way. Dean is carrying a large bucket. Water sloshes over the edge and Castiel can see the flash of coloured fins. He knows that Dean brought him live fish, but there is a thick knot in his stomach and the thought of eating makes his throat feel tight.  
  
_(Sorry, Cas. We didn’t mean to take so long.)  
  
_ Sam moves to help Dean lift the bucket to the edge of the small sea. Castiel rises up sharply, reaching through the bars to shove the bucket away so the fish don’t drop in. Dean and Sam look to each other in surprise and lower the bucket.  
  
_(You not hungry, Cas? You barely ate anything last night.)_  
  
Castiel bares his fangs and growls. Dean abruptly takes a step away, his eyes wide. His surprise is a sharp pulse through his confusion. It gets lost in the tumult of Castiel’s anger, burning hot through their link.  
  
He points at the black-boxes and hisses at them. Castiel’s dislike for them flows against Dean’s objections, smothering them with images of removing the boxes. Beneath it all, Castiel’s hurt that Dean left and wasn’t responding to him throbs bright and painful.  
  
Sam takes the full weight of the bucket when Dean stumbles back. He immediately puts it down and goes to his brother’s side. Dean is clutching his head, his eyes closed tightly. He’s saying something to Sam, but Castiel can’t hear the muffled rumble of his voice over the pounding of his blood.  
  
He is angry. He is hurt. He is _scared._  
  
This cage is too small. It is confining and the tepid water with its wrong taste is cloying on his skin and scales. Castiel wants to go home. He wants his family and the open ocean. And every single one of his thoughts and feelings are crashing into Dean’s mind.  
  
Sam snatches the head-arch from Meg’s head when Dean goes to his knees. He ignores her protests and doesn’t put it on properly. He holds it oddly against his ear and angles the bulbed-stick to his mouth. The crackle starts and Castiel hisses. His fans flare and he thrashes his tail against the floor and glass.  
  
“Castiel!” Sam’s voice is loud and panicked in the water, “Castiel, please stop! You’re hurting Dean!”  
  
Dean has one hand fisted in the short bristles of his hair. The other is clutching at Sam’s white coat. He’s breathing hard, doubled over and shaking. His features are twisted in a mask of pain. It’s like a blast of cold down Castiel’s spine. He startles away from the wall and severs the connection. Immediately, Dean collapses against Sam’s side. His forehead is shiny and damp and a few stray tears are on his cheeks.  
  
For a moment, Dean lifts his eyes to him. Castiel stares back, brow pinched tight in a frown. His emotions are conflicted and he can still feel the swelling pressure of panic in his chest. He snarls at Dean, jerking away to swim in large erratic circles. He stops often to slam his shoulder or tail against the walls.  
  
Sam helps Dean to his feet and Dean sways, wobbling with every step. Castiel watches them even as he fights against the glass edges of the small-sea. Meg is no longer standing at the ledge. Castiel doesn’t remember when she left or where she went. Sam is trying to herd Dean toward the door, but Dean keeps pushing him away.  
  
He sees a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. Castiel stills and looks sharply to the platform. Meg is standing on it, another of the dart-guns in her hand. Dean shouts a short, loud word at her and Sam leaves him leaning against the opposite ledge. His long legs carry him to her side and he grabs at her arm. Castiel still feels the sharp sting of the needle in the meat of his tail.  
  
Sam pulls her from the platform and he’s yelling at her. Meg shrugs and lets him pull the dart-gun from her hands. Dean stumbles heavily to the glass-wall and Castiel blinks at him. He thinks Dean might be calling his name, but all Castiel can hear is a high-pitch ringing and the edges of things are starting to blur. Colours swarm his vision, growing darker until everything is black. 

x

The lights hurt his eyes when he wakes again. Castiel hisses and covers them with his hands. Almost immediately it grows darker, the lights dimming. His head is pounding and his stomach is empty but every movement makes it roll and twist into uncomfortable shapes. His limbs feel heavy again and there’s an ache in his tail where Castiel knows the dart hit him.

“Cas, man. You okay?”

Castiel groans and shifts onto his side. Dean is crouched low at the edge of the small-sea. He has the head-arch on and he’s talking through the small-boxes. He looks tired and haggard, with dark half-circles under his eyes. Sam is walking away from the door. He isn’t wearing his white coat.

“Sorry about Meg. She wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Dean is speaking, but without the images and the feelings to go with the words, Castiel can barely understand him. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he feels more calm. He feels ashamed for his actions because he could have hurt Dean in many lasting ways. This makes the second time that he has attacked Dean’s mind and if he were back in the colony Castiel would be severely punished for his abuse of the kin-connection.

“Are you going to be okay?” Dean asks, voice soft as he speaks into the bulb-stick. “You were having one helluva panic attack.”

Sam kneels next to Dean. His voice is harder to hear through the small-boxes because he doesn’t have the bulb-stick. “Is he trying to set up the kin-connection again?”

Dean shakes his head, removing his hand from the flat-circle so Castiel can’t hear his words while he speaks with Sam. Then he looks back and the smile he gives him is small and strained and Castiel knows that Dean must still be in pain. Castiel feels his eyes sting and he struggles over onto his other side, presenting Dean with his back.

He’s hungry but he doesn’t want to eat. There’s a hollow pit in his stomach and his throat feels tight, as if something is caught in it. Castiel is sure that if he eats, he won’t be able to keep it down. And if it’s live fish that they give him, he doesn’t have the energy or the motivation to chase them. He feels clumsy and heavy and it hurts to think.

“Aw Cas, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” Dean knocks on the glass and it makes Castiel flinch. He curls in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. “Cas, please. It’s okay, really. I should have warned you about Bobby and what we were planning, but you were sleeping and I didn’t wanna wake you and now I’m kinda rambling… Jesus, Sammy, why did you let me have this thing?”

“He likes you better and he isn’t kin-connected with me.”

“Yeah, well this isn’t working so good in case you haven’t noticed. Cas won’t even _look_ at me.”

“Have you tried reaching for hi–” The words cut out and Castiel knows it’s because Dean took his fingers from the flat-circle.

He hears the splash of extra water being dumped over the edge of the wall. The small-sea vibrates with the flutter of fins and the movement of fish. One of them darts past his shoulder and Castiel ignores it. He ignores it just as he ignores the gentle start-stop rumbles of Sam and Dean’s voices. Eventually even those fade. He hears the door shut and then there is silence.

The quiet presses in on Castiel from all sides. He can hear the humming of the machines Dean explained keep the boat moving. If he presses his fingers hard to the floor, he can feel the slight tremble of their presence. There is so much noise in this silence. It is nothing like the dead quiet at the bottom of the sea, where there is nothing but the pressure of the water on all sides and the feeling of his family around him.

It doesn’t take long for Castiel to become unnerved by it. He deals with the quiet as he did before and he sings. He keeps it low and hushed. If he sings loudly, the humans might come again and Castiel wants them to stay away. He doesn’t want to hear their voices or see their faces. Castiel wants to be left alone.

He sings several chords to call for his family and all that he misses. It is well into the song when Castiel realizes there is more beneath his song than just his voice. Startled, he stops and raises his head. The room is still dark and Dean is alone, sitting on his bed with his back against the wall. He’s holding something to his chest.

Dean’s hand moves over the center of the widest part. Strings run along the length of it. There is a long flat piece sticking out from the top the wide-part. Dean’s fingers press the strings into the flat-piece while he plucks at them with his other hand over the hole in the center of the wide-part. He stops briefly when he notices Castiel watching. Then the noises change, taking on a different tempo and tune.

Castiel twists himself up onto his elbows and watches with rapt attention as Dean’s fingers dance over the strings. The sounds are fast and blend together, like a voice but not. He knows it’s a song, but it’s one he has never heard before. Dean is still wearing the head-arch. He stops long enough to push forcefully at the flat-circle before his fingers return to the strings. The sounds come more clearly through the small-boxes and Castiel stares.

“It’s music.” Dean says, grinning, “Do you like it?”

Castiel tilts his head at the question. Dean simply laughs and puts aside the string-thing. He taps at the flat-circle before pulling the head-arch from his head and setting it on top of the drawers. Dean slides forward on the bed, sitting on the edge and resting his elbows on his knees. He’s staring at him and Castiel finds it hard to meet his eyes. He dips his head and turns away. Dean reaches out and knocks sharply at the glass. Castiel flinches at it, but he doesn’t look back. The crackle-noise starts and then Dean’s voice echoes in the water, sharp and commanding.

“Dammit, Cas. Look at me!”

Castiel flinches at the tone. He lifts his head slightly, but he’s still turned away. Dean knocks again and he gives the same command. Castiel turns his face very little, enough to see Dean out of the corner of his eye. 

Dean is tapping at his temple with one hand. The other is holding the bulb-stick to his mouth and he speaks into it again. “Cas. Kin-connection. Now.”

He knows what Dean is asking. But he won’t do it. Castiel hurt him and he can tell just by _looking_ at him. If he was to touch Dean’s mind now, he would be able to feel Dean’s pain. Castiel doesn’t want to feel that. He doesn’t want to feel how he hurt the one human who has done nothing but be kind to him.

Castiel shakes his head and Dean slams his palm against the glass, scowling darkly.

“Cas, I can’t explain anything to you if you don’t _talk_ to me.” His fingers curl into a fist and he pounds it against the glass again. “I’ve tried reaching out to you but my brain isn’t built that way and I just _can’t_. You gotta do it. Give me the kin-connection and do it _now._ ”

He shakes his head again, mouthing one word. _No_.

Dean bares his teeth, face scrunching in anger. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with you sulking in here all night, Cas. I’m fine, you’re fine. There’s nothing for you to be emo about so just make the damn connection so I can _explain_ to you about this morning.”

 _No_.

He gets up and throws down the head-arch, leaving it on his bed. Dean paces from side to side in front of his bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His lips are pressed together in a tight line and every time he catches Castiel’s eye, he glares hard.

Castiel settles on his side again, his back to Dean. He flinches when Dean smacks the glass again and again at a heavier boom that makes the water tremble. Castiel rolls onto his back slightly, looking over his shoulder. Dean is gone and the room is empty. He sits up quickly, fans flaring with a flash of panic because Dean is gone _again_.

He presses into a corner and hugs his tail to his chest. The fish dart in a small school around the small-sea and Castiel watches the door. He doesn’t know who will come through it next. He doesn’t know if Dean will come back. And it’s his own fault. Castiel pushes his face against his scales and breathes deep, trying to calm that little knot of panic growing rapidly behind his ribs.

It doesn’t grow very large before the door bangs open. Castiel lifts his head and watches with wide eyes as Dean slams the door shut. He pauses, slipping a piece of metal over the door frame. He snatches up the head-arch before crossing the room with quick, long strides. He walks around the small-sea to the platform. Along the way, he removes both layers of shirts he wears. He drops his jeans and steps out of them as he steps onto the platform.

Castiel stares at Dean and notices, belatedly, that Dean is holding Jess’s necklace with the key. Dean unlocks the bars and flips them up. Dean is left standing in his underwear. He crouches and holds the bulb-stick to his lips.

“If you don’t talk to me, I’m coming in there and I’m not getting out until you do.”

Castiel doesn’t move. He barely breathes.

Dean frowns and drops the head-arch. He grabs the edge of the glass-wall and pulls himself over. The splash sends water everywhere and the fish scatter, gathering at the far side of the small-sea and away from the human. Dean takes a few breaths before taking in one big one and sinking down. He cuts at the water with his hands until he reaches the floor.

He rests there, at the seam of wall and floor. Dean floats too much to be able to sit properly. He keeps paddling with his hands to keep himself there. Castiel watches, curious and confused because he doesn’t know what Dean is doing. Dean doesn’t look away. He’s glaring hard at Castiel through the bubbles that keep escaping his nose and the corners of his mouth. His face is slowly going more and more red.

Castiel realizes, with a sharp jolt, that Dean isn’t going back up to breathe. He reaches out and touches Dean’s mind before he realizes what he’s done. Just like he did the first time he spoke to Dean.

_(You’re going to drown!)_

The tight hold to Dean’s body immediately relaxes. He plants his feet against the floor and pushes up. Castiel can hear his gasp for air from the other side of the small-sea. Dean clings to the edge of the glass-wall and breathes deep. Castiel can feel him scrabbling to hold the connection between them, though it amounts to nothing. If Castiel wants to break the connection, he can do so whether Dean wants it or not.

_(Took you long enough. Fuck, I thought I was gonna hafta die before you’d make the friggen connection.)_

_(I wouldn’t let you die, Dean.)_ Castiel is almost insulted that Dean would even _think_ that he would let him drown.

_(I know. But you were cutting it close there. You calmed down enough to let me explain things to you now?)_

Castiel uncurls and slinks along the floor to the other side of the small-sea. Dean watches him through the waves, dipping his face under every now and then to see more clearly. Castiel gently touches at the edges of Dean’s mind, assessing the damage he did earlier. Dean’s thoughts are tired and weak and Castiel can easily sense that he’s drained and needs to sleep.

_(Go to bed, Dean. We can talk in the morning.)_

_(No.)_ Dean shakes his head and sinks a little again. _(I’m not gonna be able to sleep with all this shit between us. So you shut up and let me explain about what happened this morning, okay?)_

Castiel presses his lips together and frowns up at Dean. He doesn’t like the commanding tone, but he nods. If it will get Dean to rest sooner, then he’ll do it.

Dean grins and lifts his head to breathe. Castiel flicks his tail and rises up too. He knows humans like to see each other when they speak and he knows it can’t be comfortable for Dean to keep holding his breath and looking down. Castiel knows it isn’t because he can feel Dean’s irritation crackling along the very edges of Dean’s thoughts. It eases away the moment Castiel’s head breaks the waves.

“Thanks.” Dean grins, his gratitude filtering slowly through the link. Castiel keeps the connection thin on purpose. He doesn’t want to strain Dean’s mind more than it already has today.

“So let’s make this brief, huh? I’m tired and you want me in bed as much as I want to be in bed and I don’t mean that in nearly as sexual a way as that came out. Stop tilting your head at me, dude, I’m not explaining that.” Dean’s nose crinkles, but the lines beside his eyes are laugh lines and he’s smiling so Castiel thinks whatever he’s saying is okay even if he doesn’t fully understand, even with Dean’s emotions and thoughts flickering through their connection.

Dean flushes pink and his thoughts get washed over with panic. He shakes his head and coughs, not meeting Castiel’s eyes. Castiel tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. Their connection is much too weak for him to see the images that Dean thinks he’s seeing. He’s only getting the barest of thoughts and emotions.

“Anyway…” Dean clears his throat, looking at a point over Castiel’s shoulder, “I didn’t wanna wake you this morning. I went to get you the fish for breakfast, but I got stopped by Lilith.”

Castiel frowns at the name and his fans flicker. Dean is sharing his memories with Castiel. These are different than the potent memory of how he got his scar. The connection is half closed and Castiel is only getting images without the emotions that go with them. He gets random words, naming locations or items that Castiel doesn’t know.

“She took me and Sam back to her office and we got a helluva talking to about how we punched out Alistair and Gordon.” Dean runs a hand through his hair, grinning wryly at the memories. Castiel gives an amused snort. He enjoys those memories too. “She’s more interested in learning things about you than she is in how those two get treated, but Sam and I can’t hit them anymore. If we do, she’ll fire us. Even if you like me the most. And if I leave, then Alistair and Gordon will get to do what they want.”

Castiel reaches out and grabs Dean’s wrist, his eyes wide. _(Dean. Stay!)_

Dean grins. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. But you understand why I wasn’t here earlier, right?

He nods. _(Yes, Dean. What are the boxes?)_ He points at the big-box and the small-boxes.

“Oh those? They’re like… phones. The small ones are ‘speakers’ and they let you hear us when we speak into the head-set.” He accompanies the names with the images of what they are. Then he passes along the image of the big-box and the protrusion on it. He imagines an image of Castiel pushing on the protrusion and speaking with his throat-voice into it. “And when you push the button and talk, we’ll be able to hear it out here. It’s a way for the others to talk with you. When you’re better with your words and stuff.”

 _(Why would I phone you?)_ Castiel frowns, confused. Why would he want to phone Dean if he has the kin-connection.

Dean shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “Not me, exactly. But Sammy and Jess.” A flash of jealousy blazes through the connection before Dean reels it back quickly. “Unless you want to set up the kin-connection with them too, but that’s up to you…”

Castiel draws back and sinks until his nose is underwater. His fans are twitching and he chews his bottom lip.

“You got something to say, Cas?” Dean raises one eyebrow and tilts his head, “Spit it out.”

 _(I’m sorry.)_ He gestures at Dean’s head. _(For hurting you. I should have had better control over myself.)_

“Apology accepted. But seriously, dude, you were having a _panic_ attack.” Dean waves his hand between them in a gesture Castiel has come to associate with brushing things aside. “I’m surprised you didn’t hyperventilate yourself into an coma or something. That’s why Meg drugged you. She thought you were hurting yourself.” He reaches out and brushes his fingers over Castiel’s shoulder lightly, “You okay? You were hitting things pretty hard earlier.”

Castiel shrugs and winces. His shoulders are littered with bruises and the healing cuts from the coral from what feels like an age ago already. Dean frowns and pulls his hand back quickly, as if he’s the one who hurt Castiel.

 _(I’m fine. Thank you for your worry.)_ Castiel quirks a small smile and then frowns as his stomach growls.

Dean laughs and waves him off. _(Go eat. I’m gonna dry off and hit the sack.)_

He turns away from Castiel, grabbing at the edge with both hands. The muscles in his arms and back tighten and Castiel finds it fascinating to watch. Dean kicks, his feet thumping against the glass, as he lifts himself out of the water. He starts in surprise and nearly falls back in when Castiel places his hands on his hips.

“Whoa! Cas, the hell are you doing?!”

Castiel flares his tail-fans wide and beats his tail through the water once. It propels him up and he pushes Dean higher, helping him get his leg over the wall. Dean drops to his feet on the platform and his cheeks are pink again. Castiel likes it. It makes his freckles stand out more.

“Warn a guy next time, okay?” Dean pulls at the edge of his underwear. They are heavy with water and he holds them to his waist, keeping them from falling. “Humans have a thing called ‘personal space’ and I dunno about you fin-kin but seriously, ask first.”

 _(Yes, Dean.)_ Castiel doesn’t understand why humans would take issue with being close to someone. As a hatchling, Castiel used to sleep curled in a tangle with his nest-siblings.

Dean reaches across to the close the bars and Castiel dives with a huff. He eyes the fish swimming idly and his stomach growls again. He licks his lips and grins at Dean before starting his chase. Dean dries off with another strip of cloth – _(It’s called a ‘towel’.)_ – as he collects his clothing. He drops them in a basket hidden under his bed and puts the string-thing – _(It’s a musical instrument. A ‘guitar’.)_ – in a case also stored under the bed. He starts rummaging through the drawers.

Castiel is eating one of his catch when Dean’s nervous thoughts touch his. They are tinged with discomfort and Castiel lifts his head to look at him sharply.

_(Dean?)_

He shuffles his feet, a clean pair of his underwear in his hand. _(Can you turn around for a minute?)_

 _(Why?)_ Castiel frowns, swallowing his bite.

 _(Coz’ I don’t want you to see me naked, geeze. Just turn around.)_ He draws a circle in the air with his finger.

Castiel blinks at him. _(I don’t understand.)_

Dean groans and rubs his hand over his face. _(Of course you don’t. You’re always naked. Just turn around and I’ll… I’ll try to explain the concept of nakedness to a guy who’s constantly naked. Yeah, that’ll work over well... I’m going to stop thinking about being naked now.)_

Castiel takes another bite and, despite his confusion, turns his back. _(Why do humans wear so many clothes?)_

_(Warmth and protection against the elements, mostly. Modesty too. We cover our naughty bits so not everyone can see them. We’re usually only naked with a romantic partner, and sometimes family but even that can be awkward.)_

Licking at a bone, Castiel thinks it over. Dean is purposefully avoiding providing images for some of the words he is using. Words that Castiel does not recognize. _(What are ‘naughty bits’?)_

_(Of course you pick up on that. C’mon Cas, let it drop would you? Okay, you can turn around now.)_

Castiel looks over his shoulder and Dean is sitting on the edge of his bed now. He’s wearing the night pants that had been folded on his pillow, but he hasn’t put on another shirt. The blankets are pulled back on the bed and he has a hand over his mouth, covering a yawn.

 _(Dean. What are ‘naughty bits’?)_ Castiel prods again.

Dean groans and hangs his head. _(Can I get Sam to explain that? Please. Coz’ I really don’t want to.)_

_(I don’t have the connection with Sam. If he is willing, I can try when he gets here.)_

A frown pulls at the corners of Dean’s mouth and there is another pulse of jealousy tinged with possession. Dean rubs furiously at his hair with both his hands. He’s muttering words with his mouth and they flit through his mind. Castiel doesn’t know these words and Dean won’t explain them either. It’s frustrating and Castiel snatches a fish from the water as it darts by, biting into it with more force than necessary. The brittle bones break under his teeth.

Dean flops back in his bed. He pulls the blanket over his shoulders and rolls over to face the wall, his back to Castiel. His mind is forcefully kept quiet for several minutes and Castiel frowns at his back. He lets his displeasure push through the connection. He is answered with images of a faceless male and a faceless female. Neither are wearing clothes.

Castiel greedily takes the images and examines them. From the hips up, they look much like fin-kin. From the hips down, they are very different. Where Castiel’s genitals are on the inside, a human male’s are on the outside. They even look similar. The females are different and they have nothing there. Castiel is intrigued because they have hair in other places aside from their heads and faces.

He wants a closer look but he can’t make the images bigger. He needs Dean to provide him with larger memories of them.

 _(Holy fuck. No way in hell. Eat your fish. I’m going to sleep.)_ Dean pulls his pillow over his head and shuts Castiel out.

Curious and disgruntled, Castiel prods at Dean’s conscious. _(I’ll show you fin-kin. Please?)_

_(Christ, no! Cas I don’t wanna know about what fin-kin naughty bits looks like. Sam might, but I don’t swing that way. I really, really don’t. I’ll talk to Sammy about it in the morning, but seriously, no more sex talk okay?)_

_(What’s ‘sex’?)_

_(Cas!)_ Dean whines, exasperation and desperation edging his thoughts. _(That is talk for the_ scientists _not for the_ mechanics _. Seriously just stop and let me sleep. Please.)_

Castiel huffs, chewing disapprovingly. _(Fine. Sleep well, Dean.)_  

x

“Hello Sam.”

Sam jumps slightly. He turns on the lights and then smiles and waves at Castiel. He searches around for the head-set and Castiel pushes the button on what Dean had called the ‘microphone’. “Ledge.”

He locates the head-set and slips it over his head. The lights on the speakers blink on. “Good morning, Castiel. Did you sleep?”

“No.”

Sam removes the bucket from hanging on the corner of the small-sea. He examines the contents and raises his eyebrows, smiling at Castiel. “Spent all night eating, huh? You feeling better today? Less freaky-outie?”

“Yes. Dean sleep.” Castiel looks pointedly to where Dean is still under his blanket. He’s facing the small-sea now and one arm is dangling over the edge of his bed, his face buried in the pillow.

“He does like to sleep in.” Sam smiles warmly at his brother before placing the bucket near the door. “Jess is bringing something for you today.”

Castiel tilts his head, brow furrowed. He shakes his head because he doesn’t understand.

Sam shrugs. “Sorry, I can’t explain further. Unless you want to do the kin-connection with me. I know you almost did it on the reef…” He runs his hand through his hair and looks at Castiel hopefully. “I mean, we don’t really know why you’re only doing it with Dean, but if you want to, you can do it with any of us, y’know, right?”

Castiel blinks at him.

“Never mind.” He shakes his head and turns to start turning on the computers. “We’ll ask Dean when he wakes up.”

_(With you two chatting like old ladies, how the heck am I supposed to sleep?)_

Castiel looks over sharply, still holding down the button. “Good morning, Dean.” Their link is bright and strong this morning. Images, thoughts and emotions are vibrant and clear. Castiel is glad that a night’s sleep has healed Dean’s mind.

Sam looks too and Dean is sitting up, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely. “Mornin’ Sam.” _(Mornin’ Cas.)_

“Dean.” Cas says, his finger still on the button and waiting until he has Dean’s eyes on him. “Explain.”

Dean yawns again, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. _(Explain what?)_

He’s using his throat-voice so Sam can hear. Dean won’t be able to get out of explaining if Sam knows that Castiel is curious. It’s an underhanded trick, but Castiel wants to know. “Naughty bits.”

Sam makes a choking noise into the head-set and he spins around, “What the _hell_ , Dean?!”

Dean groans and throws his pillow. It bounces harmlessly off the glass-wall and Castiel doesn’t understand the point of it. The speakers switch off and Sam crosses the room to loom over Dean, talking to him in quick loud words. Dean is holding his face in hands and talking through them.

 _(Thanks so much for this.)_ He glares at Castiel from between his fingers.

_(You’re welcome.)_

_(… You don’t understand sarcasm, do you?)_

_(What’s ‘sarcasm’?)_

Dean shakes his head again and looks away. _(Never mind. You okay with me going to get a shower and more food?)_

_(Yes, Dean.)_

_(Good.)_ He gets up and gives Sam the key from around his neck before going to the drawers for his clothes. _(Sam is going to… uh… show you pictures. I guess. Of ‘naughty bits’. I don’t want to be here for this because it’s going to be all sorts of awkward.)_

_(Why?)_

_(It just_ is _, Cas. And Sam, kinda… Augh.)_ Dean stops and presses his face into his clothes. Castiel thinks this is something weird for him to do, if he has the look on Sam’s face as anything to go by. Dean rolls his shoulders and then a shudder makes his whole body shake. _(He wants to know about fin-kin bodies, okay? Can you… tell him about that?)_

Castiel swims in a little circle, contemplating it. _(I would need the kin-connection.)_

Dean’s thoughts sour, but he must mention it to Sam, because Sam brightens considerably. He glances at Castiel hopefully. He looks between Dean and Castiel, rocking from side to side.

 _(It’s not up to me who you make the kin-connection with, Cas.)_ Dean shrugs, rolling his clothes and tucking them under his arm. His expression is impassive but his mind is a swirl of unhappy emotions. Castiel can feel Dean trying to keep them from him. He doesn’t ask about them. _(But if you’re going to make it with anyone? Sam and Jess are your best options. Got that? If you trust me, you can trust them.)_

Castiel bites his bottom lip and tentatively gives Dean the memory of Sam and the dart-gun back at the light-beds.

Dean winces and their link is flooded with regret. _(Not his finest moment, I’ll give you that. But really, he was just doing his job. We didn’t know you guys were… Well, we thought you were just another kind of fish.)_

Castiel snorts, insulted. He glares at Dean and gets an apologetic shrug in return. _(Obviously we know better now.)_

 _(Not well enough to let me go.)_ He snaps and only feels a little bad when Dean flinches. Sam’s expression falls too when Dean explains it to him. Castiel swims a lap around his small-sea before stopping and pressing the microphone-button. “Go.”

Dean doesn’t need to be told twice. He leaves quietly and Castiel lets their connection fades until he only senses his presence and nothing further. He doesn’t want to let it go completely like he did the last time Dean went to bathe. Dean understands and doesn’t complain. In fact, his emotions are pleased before Castiel can no longer sense even that.

Sam shuffles in place before he turns back to the computers. Castiel watches his back and plucks at the bandage around his wrist. He thinks it should be alright to remove it soon. He could tell Sam with the microphone, or knock on the glass and use actions. Or he could tell Sam through the kin-connection.

Sam stills at the first touch. He turns around quickly and stares at Castiel with wide eyes as he increases his presence in Sam’s mind. Where Dean had confusion and cautiousness, Sam’s thoughts swarm with curiosity and excitement. His mind is a hive of activity, thousands of different things swirling together. Castiel can’t help but compare it to Dean. Where Dean’s thoughts and knowledge are based on the physical and things he can do with his hands and how things come together, Sam’s are more…. scientific and theological.

It’s an interesting difference and Castiel thinks he might what to look deeper into it. But that would be delving further into their minds than either one would be willing to give. Castiel draws back until he is only sliding along the edges of Sam’s mind.

_(Hello, Sam.)_

Tentatively, Sam reaches back. His curiosity is almost insatiable and he brushes along Castiel’s mind just as he did his. _(Hi, Castiel. This is… wow. This is really cool.)_

Castiel frowns. He doesn’t know that expression. Sam’s thoughts are coming in words and Castiel shushes him with a sharp admonition. He explains through example and what little of their words he knows. _(I don’t fully understand your language. I learn more every day, but you need to speak not with words but images, thoughts, feelings. Do you understand?)_

_(Yes.)_

Castiel smiles slightly and nods, satisfied. _(I think the bandage can be removed soon.)_ He holds up his wrist for Sam to see.

Sam nods in agreement. _(We can take it off later when the others are here.)_

_(Alright. What did you say earlier about Jess?)_

Sam grabs a chair and drags it over to the glass-wall. He balances a clip-board on his knee and writes furiously while they talk. _(She’s bringing a really big mirror. So you can see yourself, all of yourself. God, wow. This kin-connection is going to make it so easy to learn about merma– sorry. About fin-kin. This is amazing, Castiel.)_

_(I want to learn about humans too.)_

_(What would you like to know?)_ He looks up, smiling brightly. He flushes pink like Dean did when Castiel sends him the images of the naked female and male that Dean showed him last night. Sam shifts in his seat.

 _(Oh. Um. Okay. Just… Yeah.)_ He closes his eyes and rubs at them with his fingers for a moment. And then the connection gets flooded with several images. All of them are close-ups of female and male genitals and Castiel is almost overwhelmed.

He draws away, shutting the connection so Sam can’t give him anymore and he sorts through them. Castiel only opens the link to get the names of things. Sam rubs at the back of his neck as he explains and his thoughts are self-conscious and tinged with embarrassment. Castiel ignores it and asks his questions when he wants to know why or how or what.

 _(Can I ask my questions now?)_ Sam asks after he’s answered dozens of Castiel’s.

Castiel nods. _(Of course. You can ask me anything, Sam.)_

 _(How do fin-kin reproduce?)_ He sends images of smaller humans, tiny and held in the arms of bigger ones. Children and adults, Castiel thinks. Sam’s thoughts cut off suddenly and his head swivels toward the closed door. _(Just a moment, Cas.)_

Castiel presses his hands and his nose against the glass, watching closely as Sam gets up and goes to the door. He pulls it openly widely and Castiel shouts his name with voice and mind when he is knocked to the floor with Gordon’s arms around his waist.

_(Sam!)_

Sam is shouting at Gordon, trying to push him away as Gordon sits on his stomach and grabs his arms to hold him in place. Alistair is right behind Gordon. He has a length of braided kelp – _(No, Castiel. It’s rope. Shit, what are they planning?)_ – and Castiel bangs on the glass as they force Sam over onto his stomach, tying his hands together. Sam is struggling violently, his voice loud through the glass.

Gordon shoves a strip of cloth in his mouth, tying it tightly behind his head. He takes the key from the necklace. Castiel presses the button on the speaker-box.

“Sam! Stop Alistair! Stop Gordon!” Castiel bangs on the glass with his free hand, hissing and snarling and flaring his fans. They glance at him, but neither of them show even the slightest hint of fear.

Alistair drags Sam out of the way while Gordon leaves the room. Sam is left lying next to Dean’s bed. Sam is outraged and his thoughts are roaring through the connection as he struggles against the bindings. Castiel leaves their connection, stretching for Dean’s. He forces it wide.

 _(Dean! Come back!)_ He explains in brief flashes of images of Alistair and Gordon. Of Sam bound and gagged. Of the very small-sea that Gordon pushes into the room. Of the odd machine suspended above the water and them shutting the door and sliding the metal piece over the door frame. _(Dean, please!)_

Dean’s answer is distant, but he responds with anger and harsh words Castiel doesn’t know. _(Shit! I’ll be there as soon as I can, Cas. Just hold on! Jesus Christ, hold on!)_

Castiel presses against the right glass-wall, as far from the platform and the bars that Alistair is raising. He tosses aside the key and helps Gordon move the very small-sea next to the platform. Castiel growls. His back-fans expand to their full width and he bares his fangs at them. Gordon gives Alistair another dart-gun and Castiel snarls at it.

“If you don’t want to get shot again, then I suggest you play nice and come on over.” Gordon’s voice is snide and proud in the water and Castiel glares at him for taking the head-set from Sam. “We just want a blood sample. Nothing too bad.”

Sam provides the images of the needle pressing into his arm and drawing out his blood. Castiel shakes his head violently and wraps his arms around his chest.

 _(Castiel, they’re going to knock you out. Like Meg did yesterday. If you listen to them they won’t put you to sleep. If they knock you out, they can hurt you worse if you’re unconscious.)_ Sam’s thoughts are bitter and full of hatred. He does not approve of their methods.

 _(Dean will be here soon.)_ Castiel assures him as he reaches for Dean again. Dean’s thoughts are agitated and he’s using the harsh words again.

Alistair and Gordon are talking. Sam stills and his surprise shocks through the connection. _(Dean’s not coming. He’s… They’ve got someone keeping him busy.)_

Castiel looks at Sam with wide eyes and his chest suddenly feels tight. Alistair and Gordon are grinning and the dart-gun is dipping into the water, aiming at Castiel. He hisses at it. He doesn’t want to be forced to sleep again by their poison. He twitches and slinks along the glass wall. He stops at the speaker-box and pushes the button.

“Okay.”

Alistair passes the dart-gun to Gordon and draws a needle from his pocket. Castiel hugs himself again, his tail thumping against the floor as he pushes away. He breaks the waves as closely to the bars as he can get. Keeping his gills beneath the water, he holds his right arm out, fingers clenched tightly into a fist.

Alistair’s fingers are gentle as they wrap around his wrist. He makes soft cooing noises, but his smile is wide and dangerous when he bites a clear cover off the needle tip. Castiel tries not to flinch as Alistair presses the point into the soft skin just shy of the crease of his elbow. He frowns at the needle. It looks different than the image Dean and Sam showed him and he passes the image on to Sam.

Sam’s thoughts burst bright and scared and angry. _(Castiel, no! He’s not taking blood he’s_ injecting _something!)_

“No!” Castiel hisses as he tries to jerk his arm away but the gentle fingers have turned hard and Alistair pulls at his wrist.

Castiel growls and brings up his other arm to claw at Alistair’s hand. His arm doesn’t move. His tail is thick and heavy and dead in the water. Fear and panic seize his chest, pressing on his lungs and even with his gills in the water Castiel has trouble breathing. Alistair hands the empty needle to Gordon. He places it aside with the dart-gun.

 _(Dean!)_ Castiel’s mind is screaming as Alistair drags him to the glass-wall. He calls for Dean and shouts at his body to move. He can make his fingers and the tip of his tail twitch.

Gordon gets his hands under Castiel’s arms and together they lift him from the water. Castiel’s gills flap uselessly as he tries to breathe. He sucks at the air and chokes on it. Strangled little noises escape his throat. Sam is shouting against the gag, even as his mind is trying to calm Castiel. They have another tank to transfer him to. He’s not going to suffocate. They’ll put him in that and he won’t die. Sam is swearing that he won’t let Castiel die.

Castiel keeps fighting with his body. He wants it to move. He wants to thrash his tail and knock Alistair down. He wants to claw and bite at Gordon. He wants to _breathe_.

Alistair has his arms around Castiel’s tail. Gordon has to step down from the platform backwards, blindly. Castiel’s body spasms. It is small but it jostles the humans slightly. Gordon loses his footing and he falls against the very small-sea. Water splashes over the edge and it shifts from its place, moving toward the opposite ledge.

He grunts as Castiel falls on top of him and Alistair is dragged down on top of him by the weight of his tail. What little air Castiel has in his lungs is forced out with a light whoosh. The edges of his vision are going dark and Castiel can’t feel his gills rippling but he knows they are. His mouth is wide and he’s gasping for water but he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe._

_(DeanSamDeanwaterDeanDeanSamwaterDean–)_

Castiel can barely feel the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. The edges of his vision are turning black and he can’t feel the pain of his empty lungs. Alistair’s shouting angry words at Gordon but it might as well be through the glass-wall again. Castiel can barely hear them. His heart is pounding hard. Gordon is struggling beneath him, trying to get out from under his weight.

 _(Cas!)_ Dean’s mind is swimming with anxiety as sharp and painful as Castiel’s own. _(Azazel locked me in the bathroom. Fuck Cas, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.)_

Castiel stops listening. His thoughts have turned to Balthazar and Gabriel, to Anna and Lucifer, to Michael and Raphael and his family, to his colony. He’s going to die here, staring at the ceiling of a room on a boat as a science project of a bunch of humans. He’s never going to see his loved ones again.

His gills flap uselessly before squeezing closed, sealing themselves to his neck. The moment they do so, Castiel’s chest heaves and his gasp is loud over the sound of his own heart. The room falls silent and Castiel’s lungs burn through the haze of the paralyzing poison Alistair put in his veins.

He coughs violently. Water bubbles in his throat and Gordon is pushing up on his shoulder to roll him onto his side. He gags on the water and coughs around it, clearing it from his lungs and exchanging it for air.

 _(Cas, buddy, you still with me? You okay?)_ Dean’s concern flickers brightly over everything else, forcing its way into Castiel’s mind.

_(Dean. I – Dean. I can… breathe?)_

The edges of his sight are starting to clear. Everything becomes sharper with each ragged breath. The feel of air in his throat, inside his chest, is different from the rush of water over his gills. It’s foreign and in him and Castiel is suddenly worried he won’t be able to breathe underwater again.

 _(Castiel. Stay calm. Just keep breathing.)_ Sam’s mind is much calmer than Dean’s. He’s the voice of reason alongside Dean’s tumult of anger and fear and distress.

Castiel has no choice but to breathe. He groans at this new feeling and if he could tremble, he thinks he would be. Gordon is no longer under him. Alistair rolls him onto his back and his long grinning face fills his vision.

“Well isn’t this something? We never would have learned this fun fact if you idiots had been left to your own devices. Aren’t we happy I’m here?” He’s laughing, his voice too smug.

He narrows his eyes at him but he can’t do anything when Gordon takes his arm and presses an empty needle to it. Castiel hisses air through his teeth as his blood fills the hollow tube. He takes a few tubes worth as Alistair disappears. Castiel feels the blunt touch of his fingers on his tail. There are a few dull tugs and Alistair turns away, dropping something into small, clear containers. He holds them up to the light and Castiel realizes with growing horror that Alistair has removed some of his _scales_.

 _(I’m sorry, Castiel. We would never do that without asking you, I swear it.)_ Sam’s thoughts are a constant in the back of his mind.

“We don’t need the pool. Just get the machine over here and put on the aprons. We’ll take the pictures here.”

_(X-rays. Castiel, they’re going to take x-rays.)_

Castiel growls low in his throat and his fingers twitch against the floor. Alistair moves the platform and he tugs at Castiel’s tail. He straightens it out along the floor and spreads his fans until they lay flat. He stretches his arms out along his sides before helping Gordon transfer the machine from the very small-sea to above Castiel.

They put on heavy grey clothes that cover them from their chest to their legs. Castiel closes his eyes and growls as they hold it over his head first. The process is slow and they move it in small increments down his body. He grits his teeth and hisses at them as they do it. The x-ray camera is clicking over his tail when the door vibrates against the thin metal holding it shut.

It bangs in place several times before the metal snaps.

“Alistair!” Dean shouts, stomping his way into the room. “Gordon!”

“Welcome to the party Dean-o!” Alistair calls casually as he helps Gordon steady the x-ray over the end of Castiel’s tail. “Bit late, aren’t you?”

Dean’s anger magnifies, mingling with Castiel’s own, when he sees Sam tied up. He frees him first and then Sam’s spitting angry words as soon as the gag is removed. They come around the edge of small-sea together.  Dean drops to his knees and tucks his hands under Castiel’s shoulders before pulling him up to lean heavily against his chest. Castiel can feel Dean’s heart beating hard against his back.

_(You okay, Cas?)_

_(I want to hurt them.)_

He’s jostled by Dean’s sharp huff of a laugh. Castiel growls again. There is nothing funny about this. Alistair and Gordon have _violated_ him. They’ve taken his blood and they are going to see his insides with the pictures the x-ray camera has taken. They took his scales and they could have killed him. No fin-kin has ever been above water long enough to learn their lungs can breathe air.

Each breath is still sore and rough in his throat.

“You should leave now.” Sam snarls at them. “Take your shit and go.”

Gordon’s lips curl in a sneer and he helps Alistair place the x-ray camera aside. “We got more physical data in the last fifteen minutes than you dumbasses have in the last three days.”

“That doesn’t matter when you’re basically _attacking_ him.”

“He’s not human, Sam. You shouldn’t be treating him as one.”

Dean slides one arm around Castiel’s chest to hold him in place. His hand is warm where it lays over Castiel’s ribs. “He’s more human than either of you.”

_(Cas, you gonna be okay if I get you back in the tank?)_

_(I think so.)_

Dean moves to his side, arm slipping around to hug his back as he slips an arm under his tail. He rocks back onto his feet, dragging Castiel into his lap. Castiel’s head lolls onto his shoulder and he grunts as his temple bounces against Dean’s jaw. Sam is yelling at Alistair and Gordon again. Castiel thinks this is a normal thing, it’s happened so many times now.

_(Shit. You’re heavier than you look.)_

_(I am_ not _fat.)_

 _(Dude, I didn’t say you were.)_ Dean huffs another laugh and grits his teeth.

Castiel can feels the muscles in Dean’s arms tensing around him. He makes soft grunting noises as he stands. Castiel knows it’s an effort for Dean to step onto the platform. He jostles Castiel against the glass a few times and they both hiss.

_(Sorry, Cas. This is just… really hard.)_

“Sammy, leave the asshats alone already and give me a friggen’ hand here.” Dean staggers slightly, tipping back dangerously.

Sam is at his side almost immediately. He steadies Dean and gets his hands under Castiel. The edge of the glass wall digs bluntly against his side for a moment before Castiel is tilted over and into the water. It’s cool on his skin and his gills flutter with his first breath. Water flows through them, washing the burn of the air from his throat and filling his lungs. He sinks to the bottom of the small-sea and breathes deep.

_(Cas?)_

_(I’m fine, Dean. How long until I can move again?)_

Sam answers. _(It shouldn’t last too long. It was just a small paralytic we use for working with the bigger creatures. You should be able to move again in thirty minutes or so.)_

_(I don’t know how long that is.)_

Dean supplies images of the clock on the wall. He explains that when the large needle (which is actually called a ‘hand’ and that is just _confusing_ ) is on a certain symbol, than Castiel should be able to move again. Castiel can see the clock from where he’s laying on his side and the large hand is on the other side of the clock from the symbol he wants.

Sam leaves Dean alone with Castiel, worried because Jess should have showed up by now and it’s possible that Alistair and Gordon arranged for her to be detained like Dean was. Dean cleans the room in the meantime.

Castiel watches the clock and he waits.


	5. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel doesn’t imagine further than that. He’s already marked an increase in saliva production, and his fingers are jittering over the bones. He presses his hand over his heart and counts the beats. Those have definitely increased too. His chest doesn’t feel particularly tight, but there is a warmth spreading low in his stomach. It’s pleasing and frustrating all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a special bonus, [have some really rough sketches of mer!Castiel](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/image/36524290246).
> 
>  
> 
> _THE WONDERFUL[msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) DREW A [FANTASTIC CASTIEL](http://msmerc.tumblr.com/image/36540957664) FOR THIS FIC. IT HAS ME IN TEARS BECAUSE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS SO PERFECT. If you want an EXACT idea of what Castiel looks like, this is it. I added it to the bottom of the chapter because it's just so freaking perfect._
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to everyone and their ridiculously kind words about this fic. It's sitting at 97 pages already and I'm nowhere near done. I hope you're all in this for the long haul, because it's gonna be going for a _long time_.
> 
> Until next week, darlings! ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **Just a reminder that eventually the rating for this is going to go up because I am _totally_ planning on Cas/Dean sexy times.**

Dean is fixing the door. When he kicked it open earlier, he had snapped off the metal piece over the door frame. Dean says it’s another kind of lock. Like the one that keeps the bars closed. Castiel watches him. He has a box full of thin things like Bobby did. Dean said they are tools and it is called a toolbox.  
  
_(What’s that?)  
  
__(A screwdriver.)  
  
__(What’s it used for?)  
  
__(Screwin’ things.)  
  
__(_ Dean _.)  
  
__(Seriously, Cas, you can see from there exactly what I’m using it for.)_ Dean glares at him over his shoulder and Castiel blinks back at him. _(Why do you want me to explain it?)  
  
_ Castiel twitches his tail and it thumps lightly against the floor. _(I’m bored. This paralytic is not wearing off nearly as quickly as Sam said it would.)_ He pauses, drumming his fingers against his side. _(What are they going to do with my scales, my blood and the pictures of my insides?)  
  
_ Dean shrugs and starts packing his tools. He provides Castiel with images of his scales and blood under a microscope – one of the human’s machines for looking at things close up. There are images of Alistair and Gordon looking at black and white photos of his bones and his insides. Dean explains that they’re going to run tests to see what is in Castiel’s blood.  
  
_(Why?)  
  
_ He shrugs again, running his hands through his hair before making room for the toolbox under his bed by the guitar. _(To see how close it is to ours? I dunno. Cas, I’m really not built for these questions. I just fix machines. Sammy’s the smart one.)  
  
_ Castiel frowns and it takes him a long time to wiggle until he can prop himself up on his elbows. They wobble, threatening to give out on him at any moment. He narrows his eyes at Dean. _(You’ve shown me many machines in your memories. They are complicated and built of many parts, but you understand them. You can take them apart and put them back together. You can fix them when they are broken. You are smart too, Dean. You’re just a different kind of smart.)  
  
_ The back of Dean’s neck flushes red and he ducks his head. His gratitude and delight are bright bursts along the kin-connection, even though he doesn’t turn around so Castiel can see his face. Knowing that Dean is pleased with the compliment sets a warmth blooming in Castiel’s chest. He feels the corner of his mouth twitch up in a small smile. It is an odd combination and Castiel folds his arms, dropping to his chest and resting his chin on the back of his hands. He can feel his brow pinch together as he thinks on it.  
  
Castiel finds it confusing. He tries to figure out why he would feel good that Dean is pleased with his compliment. Dean gets the two-coloured box from under the ledge where Sam put it the day before. He removes the white top half and carries the blue part to the platform. Castiel lifts his head to watch as Dean tips it over the edge of the glass wall and dumps several gray fish into the water. Along with them are clear little pieces of glass that float on the top of the water.  
  
_(Careful. They’ll be cold. Sorry they’re not fresh. I’ll get you some fresh ones for dinner tonight.)  
  
_ He doesn’t care about the fish that flutter to the floor. Castiel’s eyes are on the floating glass. _(Dean, what’s that?)  
  
__(The ice?)  
  
__(What’s ‘ice’?)  
  
_ Dean replaces the lid on the box and places it by the door. _(You’ve never seen ice before? It’s frozen water.)_ He shares with Castiel all the information he has on the different states of matter that water can take.  
  
Castiel listens intently. By the time he’s catalogued all that Dean knows about liquids, solids and gases, Sam and Jess have arrived. Sam explains to Dean – and Dean shares with Castiel – that Jess had been locked in her ‘bunk’ – which is where she and Sam sleep – by Azazel, the same man who locked Dean in the room where he cleans himself. Between them, they are carrying something twice as wide as Sam’s shoulders and nearly as tall as he is. It is wrapped in a very thin blanket.  
  
He perks up when he sees it, rising to his elbows again. Castiel gently touches Sam’s mind. _(Is that the mirror?)  
  
_ Sam smiles and nods. Dean takes Jess’s place holding the mirror. He helps Sam maneuver it to the platform and prop it up against the glass. Castiel still shakes as he drags himself around to face them. The trembling is much less than earlier and he has more mobility with his tail now. He is rhythmically spreading the spines of his side and back-fans while flaring the fans along the length of his tail. It is helping regain the feeling throughout his body.  
  
Together, Sam and Dean maneuver the mirror to press flat against the glass, pinned in place by the platform. They work the thin-blanket off of it and Castiel gasps, all of his fans spread wide in surprise. The fin-kin staring back at him is doing the same. When he moves his arm and tilts his head, the action is copied and Castiel stares and the fin-kin stares back. He reaches out and touches the glass and the fin-kin does the same.  
  
_(Well aren’t you a handsome fella?)_ Dean’s thoughts are wrapped in amusement. He’s leaning against the front-wall, watching as Castiel twists and the fin-kin twists too.  
  
He frowns in confusion and watches the fin-kin make the same expression before he glances at Dean. _(What does ‘handsome’ mean?)  
  
_ Dean’s eyes go very wide and his face loses some of it’s colour. Shock and panic mingle with embarrassment and rip through their connection moments before Dean cuts it off, leaving only his presence and none of his thoughts. Castiel jerks his head back in surprise and looks at Dean questioningly. Dean hasn’t forced the link closed before. Not like this. He didn’t know Dean was even capable of doing so.  
  
Dean turns away from Castiel quickly and says something to Sam before hastily leaving the room. Dean’s neck is red again. He nearly knocks Meg over as she comes through the door. She glares after him and then turns to wave at Castiel. He does not wave back. The dull aches of the bruises on his shoulders and where the dart hit his tail are returning. Meg doesn’t seem to care either way if Castiel greets her. She sits at one of the computers and ignores him. Castiel ignores her just the same and turns back to the fin-kin in the mirror. He knows that the fin-kin is him.  
  
Sam’s curiosity flickers through his connection with Castiel. He raises his eyebrows in question and Castiel pushes the memory of Dean’s words to him. He had noticed earlier that though he can speak to both Dean and Sam at the same time, neither of them can hear the other’s thoughts. Castiel thinks it might be because their brains aren’t like his. They can’t project their thoughts on their own and are only able to speak to him when he speaks to them. It reminds him of the night before, when Dean couldn’t create the kin-connection on his own and he needed Castiel to reach out to him first.  
  
Sam is momentarily surprised by what Dean had said. And then he starts to laugh. Through his mirth, Sam explains and Castiel is only further confused by it. According to Sam, handsome means good-looking. It means that a person is a pleasure to look at. Castiel turns back to the mirror and closely scrutinizes his face. He supposes that, by fin-kin standards, he might be considered attractive. But why would Dean, a human, think the same?  
  
Castiel decides to ask Dean when he returns and puts the thoughts aside. He carefully does not think about whether or not he would consider any of the humans attractive.  
  
_(Where did Dean go?)  
  
_ Sam shrugs, not looking up from the papers on a clipboard that Jess just handed to him. _(To finish his shower and get some food.)  
  
_ Satisfied, Castiel directs his attention to his reflection again.He can see the black of his spines and the blue of the webbing between them. The purple-blue-yellow of the bruises spreading over his shoulders and upper arms. The mess of his dark hair, the blue of his eyes, and the stubble on his cheeks. He rubs his fingers over it, watching himself touch his own face, and frowns at the rough feel. It’s worse than when Sam had shown him the pictures the other day. Castiel’s displeasure ripples through the connection with Sam.  
  
_(Is something wrong?)_ Sam asks, his worry a quick thrum under his thoughts.  
  
He sends images of shaving with the blade of his dagger, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the mirror. Castiel presses closer to the glass and tilts his head to watch the flutter of his gills. Seeing how they work is nothing new to him. Castiel has lived amongst fin-kin his whole life. He knows all the parts of a fin-kin and he can usually see most of his body from the shoulders down when he cranes his neck. But it’s a different experience entirely to see himself like others would see him.  
  
Sam’s apprehension streaks along the link and he shakes his head slowly. Castiel doesn’t bother pressing further or asking why not. He knows the humans won’t let him have his dagger or his sword. Now that he knows he can breathe air as well as he can the water, Castiel is more of a danger to them than he was before. Especially considering how he’s already managed to hurt Alistair and Dean from within the small-sea. He’s fairly certain they won’t be leaving the bars of his cage open any time soon.  
  
Castiel flexes his arms and his tail. He watches closely in the mirror and compares it to his memories of the movements of his brothers. Sam is thinking in flashes of images of items that Castiel doesn’t recognize. He takes his phone from his pocket and taps at it with his thumbs. Castiel ignores the images and the phone and turns sideways as he bends backward, watching the stretch of skin over his stomach and chest. He turns his back to the mirror and looks over his shoulder, examining the slope of his back and slight swell of his backside and hips, and the flare of his back-fans.  
  
Jess and Meg are sitting at the computers and Sam is watching Castiel and taking notes. Occasionally, thoughts stray through the connection, but it is nothing worth either of them commenting on. Castiel moves away long enough to gather the grey fish. He takes them back to the mirror and watches himself as he eats. After the third fish, he remembers Sam’s question from before Alistair and Gordon’s arrival earlier.  
  
Sam is writing when Castiel touches his mind. His first brush is gentle, a precursor to the images he pushes through the connection. Sam stills and lifts eyes wide with surprise. Castiel is watching him steadily. He shares memories of stone ledges lined with woven kelp to cushion nests of amber eggs. He frowns when Sam compares them to fish eggs, despite it being an accurate observation.  
  
_(How big are they?)_ Sam inquires, imagining the eggs in correlation to aspects of the human body.  
  
Castiel tilts his head and shields his thoughts while he thinks about it. He was the last egg to hatch of his nest and he’s never had one of his own. The hatchery was located further down in the trench, closer to the warmth of the volcanic vent. Only the nest maids who tended the eggs, and the parents who were called during the hatching, were allowed down there. His memories of seeing the eggs are some of his first, from his ascent to join the colony.  
  
He holds up a hand and places the tip of his middle finger to the tip of his thumb. The resulting circle is roughly the size of an egg when the female expels them into the nest. Castiel stares hard at his hands, trying to remember the size of an egg when it hatches. He uses both hands, touching corresponding fingertips and creating a hoop between his fingers to indicate the approximate size. Sam writes the information down.  
  
Embarrassment slithers into the link, overlaying his excitement and awe at learning new information. Sam shifts on his chair and has trouble meeting Castiel’s eyes.  He doesn’t know what Sam plans to ask next and can only wait until Sam steels himself to ask.  
  
_(How do… How do fin-kin…Um.)_ Sam ruffles his hair with both hands before slumping back in his chair.  
  
Jess glances over her shoulder and Sam turns to speak with her for a few moments. Through his thoughts, Castiel  determines that she is asking if Sam is okay and Sam is telling her that he is talking with him. She brightens and looks a little envious when Sam mentions that Castiel has the kin-connection with him now.  
  
When Sam turns back, Castiel is watching him expectantly. Sam presses his lips together in a thin line before dumping several images of mating fish into the connection. Castiel sorts through them and the moment he understands Sam’s question, he can feel his face grow warm.  He looks away from Sam and fidgets with the bones of his meal.  
  
_(Castiel?)_ Sam prods gently. _(I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.)  
  
_ He shakes his head and chews on his lip lightly. Castiel doesn’t know how to tell Sam that he’s never been mated; that he never had the occasion, that he never found a female that held his attention, that he’s never even been _kissed_ before. It’s not that he doesn’t know _how_ it’s done, because he _does_. Gabriel and Balthazar both explained it, in increasingly graphic detail, after their first times. Which still confuses Castiel because neither of them were bonded or ended up being nest parents.  
  
Sam is watching him with interest and Castiel doesn’t want to disappoint him. He fiddles with the bones, breaking them from the skeletons and arranging them into nonsense designs as he summons the courage to explain. He starts by describing the sheath and immediately Sam is confused by his choice of wording and imagery.  
  
Castiel knows he’s blushing as he twists his tail under him and rises up to bare the front of it. A hand span below the fusion of skin to scale, there is a group of muscles that swell the scales into a slight bulge. It is roughly the length of Castiel’s hand. And at the top of it there is a small slit in the scales.  
  
The rest Castiel describes in images. He shows Sam how a male’s genitals remain inside until they are needed during the mating process. At that point, the muscles of the sheath contract until the penis extends through the slit. A female has a similar opening in the same location on the front of her tail. During the breeding process, the male would insert his penis into the female’s slit.  
  
Castiel can see the red of his cheeks in the mirror and he turns his back to it. Sam is writing avidly. His hair is tucked back behind his ears and his tongue is peeking out between his lips. He is absorbing all the information Castiel is providing and comparing it to how humans reproduce. As he takes the imaginings Castiel provides, he is returning images of how humans mate.  
  
To Castiel’s surprise, the method is really not that different. The male inserts his penis into the female and they move together until they achieve orgasm. The male’s sperm fertilizes the eggs within the female. But with humans, as Sam explains, there is generally only one – sometimes 2 and rarely 3 or more – eggs released within the female’s body to be fertilized.  
  
Castiel can’t hide his horror when Sam describes that human females carry the egg inside them until it develops far enough to survive the birthing process. With fin-kin, the female carries the eggs until they are a certain size and then she releases them into the nest. They leave  her body through her frontal slit, one at a time, and finish developing in the nest. They grow until the egg can no longer contain them and then they hatch.  
  
When Castiel asks if Jess and Sam have mated, their conversation turns toward mating rituals. Sam first has to explain the difference between love and sex. According to Sam, humans generally have sex with more than one partner over their lifetime. But when a human falls in love together, they tend to stay exclusive with that person and often get married to show that they are devoted to each other. Castiel finds the exchange of rings odd, but the exchange of vows isn’t too different from fin-kin bonding rituals.  
  
Within fin-kin society, a bonded pair would pledge loyalty to one another before the entire colony. That is the extent of their ‘marriage ceremony’. Castiel is embarrassed when he tells Sam that, up until Sam explained about multiple partners, he had always thought that you don’t kiss or have sex with a partner unless they were to be your bond-mate. He blushes harder when Sam actually laughs and explains how some humans think like that too, but it is not considered realistic anymore.  
  
Castiel looks between Sam and Jess. _(Are you two bonded?)  
  
_ He glances over his shoulder and smiles softly. _(Not yet. We’re ‘engaged’. It means we’re going to get married eventually.)  
  
__(What about Dean?)  
  
_ Again, Sam laughs. _(No. Dean isn’t in any permanent relationship at the moment. He just… sleeps around. A lot.)  
  
_ Castiel feels a sharp pang behind his sternum at the memories Sam starts showing him of Dean kissing many different women. He doesn’t recognize any of the women and he doesn’t’ understand the pain that makes the fish in his belly settle heavily in his stomach. He’s about to push the images away and tell Sam that was more than enough, but a memory of Dean kissing a _male_ filters through amongst the rest. Castiel’s fans flare with surprise and he stops Sam short with his shock and curiosity. Sam is smiling like he is pleased with himself.  
  
He seizes the memory and pulls it to the forefront of their connection. _(Why is Dean kissing a male? This serves no reproductive purpose._ ) He pauses and thinks about what he knows about humans. _(… Does it?)_ For one brief moment, Castiel is horrified by the thought that human males could bear a child too. An image of Dean, belly swollen with child and heavy under his shirt, rises unbidden in his mind and passes through their connection.  
  
Sam stares at Castiel for a few brief moments before he starts shaking with laughter and he doesn’t stop. He doubles over in his chair, wraps his arm around his waist and he’s laughing loud enough for Castiel to hear it through the walls and water. Castiel is confused. He doesn’t understand what Sam is finding so funny. He flares his fans indignantly, frowning through the glass.  
  
Jess and Meg have stopped their work and are looking at Sam oddly. Castiel thinks they don’t understand his amusement either. Sam turns and he must explain to them around his laughter because they both start up too. Castiel can hear their laughter too. He crosses his arms and scowls at them.  
  
They haven’t stopped by the time Dean returns. Dean steps into the room and pauses in the doorway, staring at the others. His expression is just as confused as Castiel’s. When they see Dean, the other three start howling louder.  
  
Frowning, Castiel prods at the closed connection between his mind and Dean’s. He knows Dean can feel the touch, but he still has his mind guarded from him. Dean crosses the room and he puts down the items in his arms. There is a towel, a tall cylinder covered in different colours, a bowl of water, and a small stick with a horizontal cross section – the way it is connected reminds Castiel of a breed of shark with oddly shaped, wide, flat faces.  
  
Dean is trying to talk to Sam. When that has no effect, he turns to Jess and Meg. They keep bubbling up with more laughter every time they look at him. His lips are twitching further and further into a frown. Castiel’s side-fans flicker wide in anticipation when Dean looks at him and he can feel when Dean tentatively opens the link.  
  
_(Cas, why are they laughing and why do I feel like it has something to do with me?)  
  
_ He shrugs and offers up the memories of his discussion with Sam. Dean goes pale again, like he did before, when Castiel gives him his own musings on human reproduction. He pushes his curiosity and confusion about kissing a male at Dean. Almost immediately, he flushes bright red. Dean’s mouth drops open and his throat works as if he is speaking. Castiel thinks he might be making sounds, but he can’t hear them and he doesn’t particularly want to swim up to tilt his side-fans out of the water. In any case, Dean’s reaction only serves to make the others laugh harder.  
  
Dean reaches out and smacks Sam in the back of the head before he starts yelling loudly at him. His mind is teeming with upset and embarrassment when he addresses Castiel.  
  
_(Christ, Cas, don’t listen to him. He makes it sound like I’m a man-whore or something!)  
  
__(I don’t know what that is. But Dean, can human males really have children like females do?)  
  
_ His throat does that thing again and there is no small amount of horror tingeing his thoughts. _(Jesus fuckin’ Christ, no!)  
  
__(Then why were you kissing a male if you weren’t going to mate with him?)  
  
_ Dean smacks Sam again and bares his teeth at his brother. Their connection is trembling with discomfort and Dean glares heatedly at Sam. _(He shouldn’t have told you anything about me and what I do in my own time. It’s none of your business and I’m not talking about it.)  
  
_ Castiel floods their connection with his confusion. _(But Dean –)  
  
__(You ask me another question about it and I’m leaving and you won’t know when I’ll come back.)  
  
_ His fans flare at the abrupt threat. Castiel hisses and beats his tail unhappily on the floor. It scatters the bones. He presses his lips together, jaw pushing forward and he flicks Dean’s mind with his irritation. Dean winces before Castiel closes their link completely and turns away to glare at his reflection. It’s only a few moments before he’s sick of looking at himself and he turns from that to present the humans with his back. Castiel refuses to look at them or acknowledge Sam’s amused touches to his mind.  
  
_(I’m sorry, Castiel. Dean’s mad at me, not you.)  
  
_ Castiel spares him a scornful glance over his shoulder. Sam is bent over his clipboard with his pen to the paper, but he is looking at Castiel. He realizes that Sam is trying to look like he isn’t speaking with him. Dean has moved to his bed and is putting a sheet of paper on the wall. It is covered in lines that form squares and each square has a different combination of the same symbols from the clock. For a moment he watches Dean take a pen and write in some of the squares, then he turns his attention back to Sam.  
  
_(Why is Dean angry?)  
  
_ Sam shrugs and glances briefly at Dean.   _(He’s not very open about liking guys too. It’s sometimes a difficult topic with people. Not everyone is as accepting about men who like other men. But there are a lot of humans who like members of the same gender.)_ He pauses and looks thoughtful, chewing on his lip. Castiel is almost sent reeling by the sudden storm of images and terms that Sam dumps through the link. He explains in pictures and words all the different types of relationships humans could have.  
  
_(You don’t have anything like that in fin-kin society?)  
  
__(Not that I know of.)_ Castiel tilts his head and thinks over this new information, comparing it to his memories. He can’t recall a single occurrence where any male mated with another male or a female with a female. A same-sex coupling simply doesn’t make sense in the scheme of things. They would not be able to reproduce and that would be of no benefit to the colony. That was the whole point of mating, wasn’t it? He poses the same question to Sam and he’s answered with a warm smile.  
  
_(Not always. Sometimes it’s about love. Humans get married for love. But there is a difference between love and sex. Humans usually have sex because it feels good. I’d say most of the time people have sex, it’s for fun and not for procreation. Haven’t you ever done it with someone just because you wanted to feel good?)  
  
_ Castiel flushes darkly and quickly looks away, almost missing when Sam raises an eyebrow in surprise. His embarrassment washes over Sam’s curiosity and he rubs at his neck. He doesn’t say anything, but the curiosity quickly turns to understanding and Castiel hunches his shoulders against it. There is amusement filtering through the link, but it’s not directed at Castiel’s lack of experience. It’s focused on how Castiel is reacting.  
  
_(Don’t be embarrassed, Castiel. There are lots of humans who are virgins too.)  
  
_ He flicks at the bones scattered around and doesn’t answer. His embarrassment eases slightly, mollified by Sam’s words. But he doesn’t turn around and he doesn’t know what to talk about now. Humans are more complicated in their relationships than fin-kin and Castiel thinks he might be trying to figure them out up until the day he dies. He wonders if Sam realizes that he is teaching Castiel more about humans than Castiel is teaching him about fin-kin.  
  
Sam doesn’t push or ask any more. He draws back a bit from the connection and Castiel hears the start-stop rumble of voices. When he looks, Sam is talking with Jess and handing her his clipboard. Meg is gone and Dean is lying face down on his bed. Castiel doesn’t fully sever his connection with Sam, but he does block it off to ensure that Sam isn’t privy to his thoughts or emotions for the time being.  
  
Castiel fiddles with the bones for several long minutes while he thinks over recent revelations. He now knows that Gabriel and Balthazar were mating with females for pleasure. After a moment, he realizes that when they would brag, it was never during or around the actual mating season when females were heavy with unfertilized eggs. It’s taken so long for him to realize this that Castiel actually feels quite a bit stupid and he buries his face in his hands as he chastises himself for his naivety.  
  
It doesn’t take his thoughts long to switch currents and start thinking about the new terms that Sam taught him. Particularly, he is… well, he doesn’t want to think that he is ‘entranced’ by it, but it is true that his mind keeps spinning back to Sam’s explanation about homosexual relationships. Castiel digs up every memory he has of everyone in the colony and he picks through their interactions, looking for signs that any of his nest-brothers or other males in the colony might have been attracted to members of the same sex.  
  
He can’t think of a single one where there is any concrete evidence. There are certainly plenty of older fin-kin males, seasoned warrior who devoted their lives to serving and defending the colony, that never mated or fathered a nest. Castiel wonders if the reason they never took a mate was because they weren’t sexually attracted to a female.  
  
Castiel stretches out on his belly and props his chin up on the palm of one hand. He makes random shapes and designs with the bones again as he turns his thoughts inwards and looks at himself as he is the members of the colony.  
  
It doesn’t come as a surprise to him when he realizes he’s never actually thought of any of the females of the colony as potential mates. Certainly there are many who are strong, intelligent or beautiful and would make very good bond-mates. And they all have many males after them. There are a few, like Hester or Rachel, that he thinks of with fondness. They are – were – members of his garrison and he once – and still does – thought of them as friends. But when he tries to think of kissing or touching them in any sort of sexual manner, he feels no reaction.  
  
He doesn’t feel anything like what Gabriel or Balthazar often described as preludes to their trysts. There is no speed-up to the beat of his heart, or a shortening of breath. His chest doesn’t feel tight and there is no heat pooling in his gut. His fingers don’t tingle and his body doesn’t get any warmer. And his penis definitely doesn’t grow hard in its sheath.  
  
Castiel doesn’t feel disappointed. If it was that easy to feel aroused by a female, he’s positive he would have felt it long before now.  
  
He rolls one of the bones between his fingertips and thinks. Castiel doesn’t pick a specific male from the colony. He knows them all personally and some of them are his nest-brothers and most of them are his friends. Instead, he closes his eyes and imagines the lines of a body; of a tail and frilled-fans, the curve of a back and the roll of muscles on either side of the sharp spines of a fan. Castiel imagines running his hands over the muscled planes of a stomach and chest and the press of kiss-swollen lips, the kisses roughened with the hint of a day’s stubble.  
  
Castiel doesn’t imagine further than that. He’s already marked an increase in saliva production, and his fingers are jittering over the bones. He presses his hand over his heart and counts the beats. Those have definitely increased too. His chest doesn’t feel particularly tight, but there is a warmth spreading low in his stomach. It’s pleasing and frustrating all at once.  
  
He wants it to go away. If he is to experience sexual arousal for the first time, Castiel does _not_ want it to happen in a small-sea where he won’t find any privacy from the studious eyes of the humans. He draws himself away from those thoughts, discarding them as quickly as he imagined them, and looks toward Dean. The feeling subsides slightly, but it doesn’t go away. It’s like an itch thrumming beneath his skin.  
  
Dean has barely moved on his bed. His arms are no longer at his sides and are now folded under the pillow. His eyes are closed and his head is turned toward the small-sea. Castiel thinks he might be sleeping. For confirmation, he reaches out and skims the touch of his mind against Dean’s. He’s shut out so quickly, at first Castiel doesn’t even know what happened. Dean opens his eyes and frowns at Castiel before lifting his head and turning it toward the wall.  
  
Castiel frowns and gathers the loose bones and skeletons of the fish in his arms. Sam and Jess have their heads together and are speaking in hushed tones Castiel can barely hear. He uncurls and swims to the right-wall. Dean stirs but he doesn’t lift his head again when he knocks on the glass. Castiel frowns and prods at the walls surrounding Dean’s mind. He rolls onto his side, back to him.  
  
Scowling, Castiel pushes harder until Dean turns back over to glare at him. Castiel wipes the frown from his face and tries to look as apologetic as he can, eyes wide and eyebrows up. He glances down at the bones in his arms and looks up questioningly, hoping Dean will understand that he wants to get rid of them. Dean’s glare softens and he rolls his eyes before sliding off his bed.  
  
He gets the bucket from beside the door but pauses before he brings it to the small-sea. Castiel twists up to skim along the surface, his fans rippling to keep him floating in place. Dean isn’t looking at him, he’s staring at the items he placed on the small ledge against the wall earlier. He knocks pointedly on the glass to get Dean’s attention again.  
  
Dean holds up his hand in a gesture to wait. He speaks quickly to Sam and Castiel is surprised when he hands over the necklace-key.  Dean holds the string between his teeth and hooks the bucket over one arm. Castiel watches closely as Dean grabs the edge of the ledge and, to his surprise, starts dragging it away from the wall – Castiel realizes it’s a not a ledge but a ‘table’ – and toward the platform. Castiel winces at the scrapping screech that tears the water. Sam and Jess both flinch too.  
  
Castiel reaches for Dean’s mind again, pulling at the walls Dean is using to keep him out. They crumble quickly and Castiel is surprised to find that Dean is amused and brimming with anticipation. He doesn’t know why. Any reason is hidden from him. Dean is getting very good at using the connection and Castiel finds himself oddly proud.  
  
_(Dean, what are you doing?)  
  
__(You’ll see.)  
  
_ He’s being vague on purpose and he’s grinning at Castiel. Any displeasure he might have been harboring from earlier is gone. A warmth settles in Castiel’s chest and he’s pleased that Dean isn’t angry with him and everything is okay between them. He lets Dean feel these thoughts and his teasing grin falls into a softer smile. He gets a reassuring brush to the edges of his thoughts as Dean climbs onto the platform.  
  
Dean unlocks the bars and pushes them up. Castiel flicks his tail with more force than necessary and rises up until he can rest his elbows on the lip of the glass wall. He dumps the bones into the waiting bucket and drops back to let the water run over his gills while Dean puts the bucket down.  
  
When he stands, he holds out his hand and flashes the image of Castiel’s wrapped wrist through the connection. Castiel immediately holds out his left arm. Dean undoes the knot with quick fingers before taking hold of Castiel’s hand. He brushes his thumb over the back of it, pausing to dip it into the space between his fingers and gently rub the webbing. His touch is almost ticklish and his thoughts are curious and impressed.  
  
With his other hand, Dean unwinds the bandage and drops it into the bucket at his feet. He leans over the edge, looking closely at the scabbed band around his wrist. It is almost healed. Castiel touches it gently with his other hand, dragging his fingers over the roughened edges. Dean makes a little clicking noise and moves Castiel’s hand out of the way so he can feel the scabs himself.  
  
_(Wow. It’s only been, like, three days. You guys heal quick, huh?)  
  
__(You don’t?)  
  
__(Something like this would take a week, maybe two? Depends on how well we take care of it. Is that why you don’t have any scars or anything?)_ Dean eyes drop to Castiel’s chest momentarily, but he looks away quickly and lets go of his wrist. The tips of his ears are going pink.  
  
He slips underwater to watch Dean as he kneels down to the items on the table. _(I have never been wounded badly enough in battle to leave any scars.)  
  
_ Dean looks up in surprise, eyes wide. _(You’ve been in_ battle? _)  
  
__(Of course. I’m a warrior of the colony.)_ Castiel shares his memories of what few fights he’s been a part of. He’s careful not to give Dean any of the sensory thoughts that go with it. He doesn’t want Dean to feel the sharp pain of a fin-kin blade slicing through one of his fans, or the stinging burn of claws raking through skin or scale.  
  
_(Whoa.)_ Dean’s surprise gives way to awe and he keeps looking at Castiel with wide eyes. Castiel doesn’t look away. He likes Dean’s eyes. He likes the unique green of them. They are expressive and if he couldn’t read Dean’s emotions through the kin-connection, he’s certain he would be able to see them in Dean’s eyes.  
  
Dean’s nose scrunches up, but there are crinkles beside his eyes. _(Dude. You’re waxing poetic about my eyes. Cut it out.)  
  
_ Castiel tilts his head and frowns. He hadn’t meant to share those thoughts. He should have better control of the kin-connection than this. _(Fin-kin don’t have green eyes, Dean. Is it wrong that I like yours?)  
  
__(Naw, it’s fine. Think what you want as long as I don’t hear it. If I hear anything about ‘limpid pools of jade’ or something, I’m blocking you out for the rest of the day.)_ Dean is grinning as he  shrugs and looks away. He picks up the tall-cylinder and pulls the top of it off, revealing a peaked top.  
  
_(Why would I say something like that?)_ Castiel watches closely as Dean holds the cylinder in one hand and pushes against the peaked top with his finger. He blinks in surprise when a thick white foam oozes out into the palm of Dean’s waiting hand.  
  
_(Not saying you’re gonna. I’m just saying that it kinda creeps me out, so don’t do it.)_ Dean stands up while he spreads the foam on his fingers. _(Now get your face up here and start sucking air. I’m gonna help you with something.)  
  
_ Castiel pauses. Dean wants him to breathe air again. Yesterday it had felt like he was suffocating before his body had figured out how to use his lungs for air instead of water. He is not particularly enthusiastic about doing it again anytime soon. But Dean is waiting and their connection is practically vibrating with amused anticipation.  
  
He pushes away from the wall and swims in a slow circle along the perimeter of the small-sea. A flicker of disappointment sours Dean’s amusement when he sees Castiel swimming away. Castiel can hear the rumble of his voice over the water as Dean speaks. He knows it’s Sam he’s talking to when Sam stands from the chair in front of the second computer and walks over to the table.  
  
Sam’s eyebrows go up and Castiel opens their connection wider, feeling his surprise. With a soft brush of his thoughts, he questions what Dean and Sam are talking about. Sam responds with curiosity and images of Castiel’s wrist. He wants to see the healing scabs too.  
  
Castiel completes his circle around the small-sea and skims under the surface a few times, his back-fans breaking through the waves his passes create. With one final deep breath, he exhales and seals his gills flat against his neck before kicking up. He rises his head, shoulders, and part of his chest out of the water. He’s high enough that he can cross his arms over the edge of the glass-wall and hang against it, his tail dangling along the glass and down in front of the mirror.  
  
He is hesitant to try for a breath of air, but Dean and Sam are watching him expectantly. Castiel inhales slightly through his nose. It makes his throat feel dry and immediately he starts coughing. Sam puts a hand on his shoulder and Dean reaches out too, only to stop and glare at the white foam still on his hands. Castiel coughs for a few minutes before he can breathe without his throat itching.  
  
He looks pointedly at Sam and Dean, frowning as he pricks their minds with his irritation and discomfort. “No like air.” His frown deepens into a scowl when he’s answered with amusement through both their connections, and the amusement is directed at his stilted use of their language.  
  
Dean actually laughs. “Sorry, Cas. I promise I’ll try not to take too long.”  
  
Castiel raises his eyebrows. He gropes in his meager dictionary for the English words he would need to ask about what Dean plans to do. He wants to ask what the white foam is, and the strange looking shark-stick. His search only comes up with one word.  
  
“What?” He tilts his head and pushes confusion at Dean.  
  
Dean’s words come with images of what he wants Castiel to do. “Show Sammy your wrist and tilt your head back a bit.”  
  
He even demonstrates how he wants Castiel to hold his head. It requires baring his throat and Castiel’s fans flare at the thought, even as he holds his wrist out to Sam. He doesn’t look away from Dean and he narrows his eyes at him. Dean raises a questioning eyebrow and ghosts confusion and concern along the edges of his mind. Castiel responds with apprehension. As much as he likes Dean, it would be a great show of trust to bare his throat to someone who is technically one of his captors and therefore his enemy.  
  
Dean presses his lips into a thin line and he shifts on his feet. Castiel shakes his head and tucks his chin to his chest. He’s left with nothing but staring down at Dean’s legs and the jeans covering them. They look like a different texture than Sam’s shirt and coat, which are the only fabrics he’s felt so far.  
  
He reaches out with his other hand. “Jeans.”  
  
“What about ‘em?”  
  
“Jeans.” He repeats. “Touch.” An image of Castiel touching the jeans is pushed through the connections. He underlines it with curiosity.  
  
“Sammy, give him your leg.”  
  
Sam looks up from examining the fading scabs on Castiel’s wrist. His face is pinched into a confused frown. “Why?”  
  
“I’ve got all this shaving cream on my hands. If I lose my balance, I’m gonna get it all over everything. Just give Cas your leg for a second, he only wants to see what jeans feel like.”  
  
“You mean you got that image too?”  
  
Castiel is looking between them as they speak. He’s understanding them better and better the more they talk with their own language, understanding trickling through in thoughts and emotions via the kin-connections  he shares with them.  
  
“Of course I did. Cas and I got that whole connection thing going. He’s got it with you too right now?”  
  
Sam nods and looks confused for a moment. Then he frowns in concentration. Castiel flinches, pulling his wrist from Sam’s hold, when the link between them is nearly overwhelmed with loud thoughts centering around calling Dean’s name.  
  
Castiel hisses. “Sam, stop. Hear Castiel, not Dean.” To make sure he’s understood, he smothers Sam’s shouting with his irritation and explains in quick bursts of images and emotions about the humans inability to reach out with their own thoughts between one another.  
  
“Oh.” Sam’s disappointment is evident in the link and on his face. “Sorry, Castiel. I didn’t mean to… uh… shout at you.”  
  
He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture before pointing down at their legs again. “Touch jeans.” As an afterthought, he remembers his manners. “Please.”  
  
Sam doesn’t move and Dean glares at him before rolling his eyes. “Christ, _fine_. Just make sure I don’t fall over or anything.”  
  
“Of course, your highness.” Sam smirks and steps out of the way to give Dean more room on the platform.  
  
Dean shuffles awkwardly before he leans heavily against the glass-wall. He rests his forearms against the edge and he rocks to one side, raising one leg. He’s mumbling dark words and he’s pointedly looking away. The link is alive with embarrassment. Dean thinks he looks ridiculous standing like he is, and his ears are going pink around the edges again. Castiel likes it better when Dean’s cheeks blush and make his freckles stand out more.  
  
He lifts himself further out of the tank and leans over the wall, ignoring how the edge of it digs into his stomach. Castiel drags his fingers over the blue fabric covering the upper half of Dean’s thigh, closer to his hip. It is more coarse than the shirt or the coat and it is not entirely unpleasant. He tries to pinch the fabric between his fingers like he did with the white coat, but it is more stiff and doesn’t move as easily.  
  
Abruptly, Dean puts his leg down and steps away from the wall. When Castiel looks up in confusion, he is oddly pleased that Dean is blushing beyond his ears. He makes sure to keep that feeling away from the kin-connection. It’s unlikely that Dean will enjoy the sentiment, especially if Castiel takes into account his reaction about his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, okay, that’s enough. Remember what I said about the ‘personal space’?”  
  
“Yes, Dean. Ask first.”  
  
“And he _did_ ask first.” Sam points out. His amusement is obvious even without the link.  
  
“Ha-ha, fuck you both.” Dean glares over his shoulder. “Don’t you have tests to run or data to look at or something?”  
  
Jess’s voice rises up from the computer area. “Yes, he _does_.”  
  
“Whipped and you aren’t even married yet.” Dean grins and sticks out his foot to nudge at Sam’s leg, pushing him toward the edge of the platform, “Go on, get. I can handle shaving Cas.”  
  
“Shaving?” Castiel tilts his head. The word is familiar. He knows he’s heard it recently and he’s trying to think of when and in what context. Sam answers it for him, returning his own memories of shaving with the blade of his dagger.  
  
Castiel rubs at his jaw and the thick stubble pulls at his fingers. Dean lifts his hands and shows him the white foam again. This time, he gives Castiel his memories of a small room with a thick white chair, a mirror on the wall, and a small shelf with a bowl imbedded in it. In the memory, Dean is watching himself in the mirror as he spreads the white foam on his cheeks, around his mouth, under his chin, and even down his neck.  
  
He is still wary and not entirely sure how much he trusts him. Dean sighs heavily through his nose and his emotions are oscillating between irritation and determination. He presses at Castiel’s mind with memories they both share, memories of Dean climbing into the small-sea when Castiel was injured and trusting him not to hurt him. The second memory, of Dean trusting Castiel not to let him drown from the other day, makes Castiel wince. He _knew_ he had Dean’s trust, he just hadn’t quite _realized_ it yet.  
  
To show he understands, Castiel tilt his head back and narrows his side-fans. They flatten against his head in a placid form of submission. Dean may not immediately understand the action, but he still smiles softly and his fingers are gentle. The foam is warm on his skin and Dean smears it over his cheeks and jaw.  
  
“Cas, do this.” Dean rolls his lips between his teeth to smooth out the skin around his mouth.  
  
Castiel copies the action and snorts in surprise when Dean spreads the foam under his bottom lip with one thumb and above his top lip with the other.  He takes hold of his chin and turns his face from side to side. Castiel thinks Dean might be checking to make sure that all his stubble is covered. There’s still foam on his fingers and Dean grins brightly before daubing a bit on Castiel’s nose.  
  
“Dean!” He jerks away and looks cross-eyed at his nose and the white rubbed over it.  
  
“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” Dean is all smiles and eye crinkles and Castiel can’t find it in him to complain. He rubs the white off his nose and squeezes the foam between his fingertips.  
  
Dean crouches down and stands back up with the bowl of water, the towel, and the shark-stick. He balances the bowl in one hand and cleans Castiel’s fingers with the towel before laying it over one shoulder. With a pleading image, he asks Castiel to hold the bowl so Dean can use his hands. He shows Castiel what he’s going to do with the shark-stick – _(It’s called a ‘razor’.)_ – and how he will drag it against the foam.  
  
“You shave with a dagger. We shave with a razor.” Dean hands him the bowl and shows him the razor. There are small, metal blades imbedded in the flat part.  
  
“I won’t hurt you, Cas.” He smothers any form of anxiety Castiel feels bubbling up at the thought of allowing Dean to put the miniature blades to his face and neck. His honesty vibrates over everything and his eyes are earnest. He’s practically begging Castiel to trust him.  
  
“Okay, Dean. Please.” Castiel tilts his head back again and enjoys the pulse of pleased exhilaration through the connection as Dean smiles again.  
  
Dean’s fingers are gentle as they turn his face from one side to the other. The scrape of the razor over his stubble is an odd sensation at first. It soon becomes soothing and Castiel’s eyes droop halfway closed. He can feel a rumble start in his chest. Dean stops and pulls back slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. It’s not the same as a growl. It’s low, soft, and rolling deep in his chest.  
  
“Dude, are you _purring_?”  
  
“No stop.” Castiel twitches his tail and rises up a bit. He tilts his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck where he can feel plenty more foam. “Please, Dean.”  
  
The connection is alive with Dean’s amusement and he laughs softly as he moves back in to start shaving again. He pauses often to shake the razor clean in the bowl of water Castiel is holding before twitching it free of water and starting again. His movements are slow, careful and calculated. Castiel watches Dean, studying his face. He tries counting Dean’s freckles, but he keeps losing count whenever Dean turns away or makes Castiel turn his head.  
  
It’s while Dean is pulling the razor in sharp, small drags above his upper lip that Castiel turns his attention to Dean’s lips. He makes sure his thoughts are shielded because he doesn’t think Dean will like hearing him thinking about them. Castiel can’t help comparing them to Sam’s. Sam has thinner lips where Dean’s lips are more plush and full. He realizes, off handedly, that they are more like Jess’s than they are Sam’s.  
  
A small voice supplies the observation that Dean’s lips are more like a female’s. Castiel tries imagining Dean’s face with a different mouth and nothing he can think of looks right. They suit him. That small voice sounds suspiciously like Balthazar’s and Castiel can’t help but think about his nest-brother and closest friend.  
  
What would Balthazar think of Dean? What would he think of Castiel forming the kin-connection with two humans and submitting himself to Dean enough for him to place blades to his throat? How would Balthazar react to the idea of same-sex relationships? How would he react to Castiel’s revelation that he doesn’t feel anything for females but apparently can feel arousal if he thinks about males?  
  
He hopes Balthazar wouldn’t  care and he really probably wouldn’t. Balthazar would probably say that Dean has very kissable lips. He said that about Anna’s lips once. He’d woken up covered in snails for that comment.  
  
Castiel wonders if Dean’s lips are as soft as they look.  
  
Dean takes the bowl and puts it down on the table. He stands up and pulls the towel from his shoulder. When Dean turns back to Castiel, the kin-connection bursts with startled surprise. Castiel’s hand is out and he presses his fingertips to Dean’s lips. Dean goes very, very still and his eyes are very wide. The connection goes quiet. There is nothing but silence from Dean. Castiel is curious and surprised. Dean’s lips are more firm than he expected and they part slightly when he pushes lightly against his bottom lip.  
  
Dean’s fingers close around his wrist and he slowly pulls Castiel’s hand away. His eyes have hardened, but there is no animosity behind them. He lets go and Castiel lowers his hand and his eyes. It had been an impulsive decision and although it satisfied his curiosity, Castiel pushes his remorse through the connection.  
  
“Sorry, Dean.” He murmurs. His expression is wide-eyed and apologetic when he looks up  again. He tries not to notice when Dean licks his lips. “Ask first.”  
  
“You’re, like, six different kinds of weird. Y’know that?” Dean sounds amused, but he isn’t smiling and there is no amusement in the connection. It is eerily flat and empty and Castiel is confused and worried. He expects a flood of annoyance and for Dean to be displeased.  
  
Dean uses the towel to rub Castiel’s face clean of any remaining foam. “I’m done. Go on and take a look at yourself, see if you like it.”  
  
He jumps down from the platform and Castiel tries not to be disappointed. He’s still very confused about Dean’s reaction and he sinks below the waves. He does a neat little summersault to twist down to the mirror. Castiel is surprised by how clean shaven he is. He touches his jaw and tries to remember the last time his face was this smooth.  
  
_(Thank you, Dean.)  
  
_ Dean pauses in returning the table to its place against the wall. _(You’re welcome.)_ He gathers up the items scattered on the table and glances at Castiel. _(You hungry? I could get you some live ones for your next meal.)  
  
_ Castiel thinks on it. He is hungry, but he is also very tired. He didn’t sleep the night before and this morning was very eventful. He yawns and he knows Dean sees it because there is a brief, strangely fond, flash of amusement before the connection goes quiet again. Castiel doesn’t sense any walls around Dean’s mind. He thinks, maybe, Dean has learned how to completely shield his thoughts and emotions without fully blocking the link.  
  
It is surprising and Castiel is impressed. He didn’t think Dean or Sam would learn how to do that so quickly. He lets that feed into the connection and he is rewarded with a small smile and a pulse of pride.  
  
_(Go on and get some sleep. I’m just gonna put this stuff away.)_ Dean stops at the door and pushes an image of the bearded man with the hat at him. _(Bobby’s the one who catches the live fish for you. I’ll ask him to bring some by while you’re sleeping. You might wanna say ‘thank you’ the next time you see him.)  
  
__(Okay, Dean.)_ Castiel covers his mouth and yawns again. Before he closes the connection with Sam, he tells him he is going to sleep. Sam tells him to have sweet dreams, which is an interesting sentiment. He leaves the link with Dean open. It’s comforting.  
  
He curls his tail up and fits the end under his neck. He pillows his cheek on the soft webbing of his fans and stifles another yawn. When he sleeps, he dreams of green eyes, green scales, and soft kisses. 


	6. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel basks in it. He takes Dean’s kindness and wraps himself up tight in the reassuring feeling of Dean. He lets Dean warm both his body and his mind and for several long moments Castiel finds it hard to care about anything else. It stirs up an odd, light and floating feeling in his chest that is at once frightening and one of the best things he’s ever felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a grueling 24 hours of writing, but here's the next chapter guys. I even doodled you [a layout of the room](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/image/37056106866). This is what I refer to when I write about the room. I hope it's not too different from what you guys see.
> 
> Don't forget to enjoy some LOVELY FANART.  
> 
>
>> \- [Mer!Castiel](http://danceswithfriedchicken.tumblr.com/image/37020848152) by [danceswithfriedchicken](http://danceswithfriedchicken.tumblr.com/) (featured below)  
> \- [Mer!Castiel](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/image/37013771887) by [cranialabsconder](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/) (also featured below)  
> \- [Mer!Cas sketch](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/image/36816541052) by [cranialabsconder](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/)  
> \- [Mer!Cas sketch](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/image/36750589552) by [cranialabsconder](http://cranialabsconder.tumblr.com/)  
> \- [Mer!Castiel](http://msmerc.tumblr.com/image/37008130581) by [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) (also also featured below)
> 
> Added: [This lovely drawing](http://msmerc.tumblr.com/post/37328614939/wow-im-so-done-with-looking-at-this-now-enjoy) by [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) (I had this made into a [poster](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_menc5dOJpB1qbkzdfo1_500.jpg)).

The lights are off again when Castiel wakes. He uncurls and flattens his fans against his back as he rolls over to look up at the ceiling. He rubs at his eyes, blurring the view of the faintly glowing light bulbs. They are barely strong enough to cast the shadows of the fish that are lazily swimming in a small school. Castiel smiles and yawns. He’ll have to thank Bobby for providing his breakfast whenever he sees him again. 

Castiel ignores the fish for the moment. His stomach is empty and he is hungry, but he is nowhere near awake enough to chase his meal. He stifles another yawn and stretches his back, arching until only the crown of his head and the end of his tail are actually touching the floor. After working the kinks out of his spine and flaring the sleep from his fans, Castiel looks toward Dean.

There is a piece of paper stuck to the side of the glass. Castiel’s dark vision is more than enough to see the crude lines that make up an image that closely resembles the clock on the wall. The one on the paper is missing almost all of the symbols that Dean calls ‘numbers’ – something that humans use to count things, like time.

Castiel looks between the wall-clock and the paper-clock. The small ‘hand’ – he still thinks that it’s foolish to call them that, they look nothing like hands – of the wall-clock is halfway down the right side. The small ‘hand’ on the paper-clock is pointing firmly at the symbol that looks like the corner of a box that’s missing it’s opposite corner. The big ‘hand’ on the paper-clock is drawn straight up to the top of the circle.

He thinks about the differences and what the drawing could mean while he continues to stretch. His right arm is bent behind his head and he’s pulling on his elbow with his left hand when he realizes that it is a message from Dean. He thinks it means that Dean does not want to be woken before the paper-clock matches the wall-clock.

Dean is on his stomach again. He is sleeping, but he is not resting. He keeps shifting – as if he’s trying to get comfortable – and his dreams are a haze of emotions too subtle for Castiel to pick them out to see what they are. His eyebrows are pinched together and he’s frowning against his pillow. Castiel thinks Dean might be having bad dreams. The feelings that are barely winding into the kin-connection are dark and Castiel isn’t sure, but there might be some pain singeing the very edges of his mind.

Castiel watches Dean twitch and roll onto his side, dragging the blanket up closer around his shoulders as he folds in on himself. Dean is curling up as if to make himself smaller, less of a target. A sharp tang sours the back of Castiel’s tongue. He doesn’t like seeing Dean in pain. It makes his chest tight and he can feel his adrenaline spike. It makes his hands tremble. He wants to hurt whomever, whatever, is making Dean feel this way. He wants to wrap himself around Dean and cover him in his fans to protect him from any pain.

The intensity of his desire to shelter Dean startles Castiel’s thoughts to a standstill. He draws away to the opposite side of the small sea, settling in the corner and hugging his tail to his chest. He filters the kin-connection so that he won’t feel Dean’s emotions and he closes his eyes to the injured expression crinkling Dean’s features.

Castiel has lost count of how many days he’s been held captive in this small-sea. It is at once too long and too short. It is too long in the sense that the water is growing stagnant and stale against his gills. It needs a current. It is too short in that Castiel is finding himself growing dangerously attached to Dean. It can’t be more than a few days since his capture. He doubts it’s been long enough for a full rotation of the colony’s sentries. By human standards that would be – he does the math in his head – seven days. And he knows that if Dean were to leave him now and not come back, Castiel would be devastated.

He’s grown too comfortable in having a kin-connection with Dean. Despite the hiccups that center around Castiel’s confusion with humans and their equally stubborn personalities, they have both taken to sharing the link better than Castiel ever thought possible. There have even been occasions when Dean _wants_ Castiel to establish the connection, even if neither of them have anything to talk about.

And Castiel knows it’s _wrong_. He shouldn’t think fondly of Dean. He shouldn’t consider Dean or Sam as his friends. They are his enemies. They keep him here in this cage to study him like an animal. And even though they protect Castiel from humans like Alistair and Gordon, they haven’t freed him. Castiel can’t even get his food on his own. He is entirely dependent on Sam, Dean, and whomever else he ends up in the care of.

Castiel is no fool. It’s wishful thinking to assume that Dean, Sam and Jess are going to be around for the entirety of his imprisonment. And he has no idea what sort of tests and plans that Lilith and the rest of the ‘scientists’ have in store for him. They have pictures of his insides from the outside with the x-ray machine. How long will it be before they want to see his insides from the inside?

The frilled fans along the length of his tail ripple in upset. He rubs his hands over his face. A sharp pang of loss lances through his chest when he notices he can no longer smell the proper salt-scent of the sea on his skin. The half-asleep fish flitting near the surface of the small-sea give off the faint, painfully familiar aroma. It’s not enough. Now all he has is his own natural scent and the slowly decaying wrong-water of the small-sea.

His heart clenches painfully and Castiel presses his palm against his chest. He had thought himself past this, having already worked through these thoughts the day before when Meg had to put him to sleep. Castiel breathes deep, trying to calm the staccato pound of his heart against his ribs. It takes more effort than it should to drag his thoughts away from the open ocean and the inevitable path he would take to thinking about the colony.

His efforts are aided, unexpectedly, by the fall of the weak filter he had placed between him and Dean’s sleep-feelings. Castiel gasps in surprise as it’s ripped apart by the maelstrom that is Dean’s nightmare. It’s like a whirlpool, sucking him down into a crushing dark red swirl of pain and fear. Castiel wraps his head in his arm and he trembles violently.

In his mind, Dean is _screaming._

Castiel can’t see most of the images of Dean’s dreams. And he shouldn’t even be able to feel anything close to this level of Dean’s emotions. But this is a unique situation. Castiel has never be so in tune to the mind of another while they sleep. Fin-kin usually have a much stronger filter in place to separate themselves from the colony when they retire to their sleep-ledge for the night. It allows for the most basic of connections, should they need to be woken at any time, and it keeps their dream-thoughts as their own.

He made an exception for Dean. Castiel wanted the comfort of the background noise in his mind. He needed it to keep himself from going mad in the silence. Previous moments where he was awake while Dean slept or sleeping while Dean was awake had led him to letting his guard down. He didn’t know that a nightmare would affect Dean – and by extension the kin-connection and Castiel – like this.

Castiel struggles against the tide to regain a semblance of organized thought. Every new surge of fear is bathed in flickering reds, yellows and oranges. It’s something Castiel has never seen before and every flash of colour is bolded by a sucking fear that drags him back under again. And over it all, Castiel can hear Dean shouting, calling for Sam. There are bright bolts of pain and longing whenever he begs for his mother or his father.

His eyes are stinging with tears and his head is ringing and Castiel doesn’t understand how Dean can be sleeping through this. He doesn’t want to think that Dean’s only asleep still because it’s happened so often before. The flares of red-yellow-orange are tumbling through the connection are choked with the air of familiarity and it makes Castiel’s stomach turn to think that Dean could be _used_ to this.

In among the molten streaks there is a quick flash of silver and Castiel hisses through his teeth. His side twinges at the remembered pain from the knife biting deep into Dean’s skin. He watches through the blur of his tears as Dean flinches under the blanket. It’s slipped down closer to his waist. Dean is grimacing into the pillow and Castiel can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He’s breathing hard and his fingers are erratically clutching at the cloth. A sheen of sweat covers his face and his shirt is darkened in patches.

Castiel pushes hard against the hurricane still ripping through the kin-connection. It would take less effort to simply sever the link, but he can’t leave Dean like this. It would be worse to face him in the morning knowing there was something he could have done to help him.

Somewhere in the far back of his mind, the little piece of him that’s still safe from the clawing vortex of Dean’s nightmare, a voice that sounds a lot like Lucifer’s speaks up. It says, in no uncertain terms, that Dean hasn’t tried to free Castiel from the small-sea and return him to the ocean. So why should Castiel free him from his bad dreams?

The dark, vindictive part of Castiel – the part that thought it was a good idea to attack Alistair when he was threatening him with the dart-gun – agrees. But he knows better. Dean may have had his moments where his temper got the better of him and he shut Castiel out for small periods of time, but he was the one who helped Castiel when he was hurt. Dean did his best to make sure that no one hurt him after that. He wasn’t scared of Castiel, or interested in studying him, or angry with him for being the reason he has to spend most of his time in this room.

And it’s because Dean thinks of him as his _friend_.

Castiel knows he does. Dean doesn’t yet realize just how many thoughts and emotions actually pass through the kin-connection. His loudest thoughts are what Castiel tries to listen to only. These are the thoughts that Dean specifically speaks to him. But there are always the background thoughts, the subconscious realizations and notes that people don’t fully register until they have time to stop and think. Castiel receives them just like he does when they talk, and Dean doesn’t even know that it’s happening.

This is how Castiel knows that Dean is protective of him, that Dean likes him. He knows Dean hates the people he works for but he loves his job. He loves Sam, Jess and Bobby, and they are all that is left of his family even though Jess and Bobby aren’t related to him by blood. He knows there is much good in Dean, but that he doesn’t see it in himself.

That is why Castiel decides to help him now. But he can’t do anything while the kin-connection is incapacitating him like this. He grits his teeth and severs the link with Dean. Everything immediately becomes blessedly silent. His head is still pounding and sore, but he can think clearly now. Castiel breathes deep to calm himself and he shakes away the remnants of Dean’s nightmares.

Castiel pushes away from the corner. He quickly measures just how high in the small-sea he needs to be. With a powerful kick, which smacks hard against the glass wall and makes him wince, he launches himself toward Dean’s side. Before he reaches the wall, Castiel rolls forward in a tight flip. The fans along the end of his tail spread wide and catch in the water.

It’s not nearly as big a wave as he had been aiming for, but it gets the job done. Water splashes over the edge of the glass-wall and a thick spray of it just barely reaches Dean’s bed. A good portion of the water catches Dean in the face and he bolts upright with a cry. Castiel sighs in relief and floats gently to the floor as Dean wipes the water from his face and squints at his hands.

With cautious and gentle touches, Castiel reaches for Dean’s mind again. The storm of his nightmare is gone, but Dean’s thoughts are muddled and confused. Castiel is thankful that Dean is not upset with him. It’s possible that he’s too shaken and still mostly asleep to be unhappy yet. Dean blinks blearily at him while plucking absently at his soaked shirt.

_(What’cha splash me for, Cas?)_

Castiel removes the fear and the pain from the memories of the last several minutes and gives to Dean the flickering images that had been forced upon him. _(You were having a nightmare.)_

Dean flinches and he squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers. He shoves the blanket away and twists around on the bed to put his back against the wall. His legs are folded under him, bent at the knees and crossed. He rubs his hands over his face and through his hair.

He wants to ask Dean many questions, but Castiel doesn’t think any of them are appropriate. At least not right now. Dean’s mind is still raw and he needs to relax. Castiel drags his touch over Dean’s thoughts, brushing them gently with a soothing calm. It earns him a small half-smile that doesn’t last long but Castiel finds it gratifying. He doesn’t say it with words, but the warm thanks that washes the connection is more than enough for him.

Dean doesn’t sit still for long. He gets up and pulls his shirt off. It gets dumped on the floor where it is joined by the cover of his pillow, his blanket, and the cover of his bed. Castiel didn’t realize there were so many pieces to making up Dean’s bed. It looks very different when it doesn’t have the cover. Dean does the half-smile again at Castiel’s curious confusion.

Over the next few minutes, Castiel gets a near wordless lecture on beds. He’s taught about mattresses, bedsprings, frames, and all the different types of bedding that can go on them and the differences between them. Fitted sheets are different from top sheets and those are different from blankets and blankets are different from comforters. There are cases for pillows and there are decorative pillows not used for sleeping that get a different kind of case called a ‘pillow sham’. Some beds get skirts which hide the frame to make it more appealing to look at.

Dean is amused when Castiel pointedly tells him that humans are ridiculous. Fin-kin have shelves or hollowed out spaces on the cliff walls to sleep. They don’t decorate their sleep places because they’re only there to sleep or rest. There is little point to putting effort into something like that. Dean simply shrugs and shakes his head as he bundles the wet bedding and his shirt in the fitted sheet. He moves it all aside and when he stands and stops moving, Castiel gets a good view of the mark on his chest again.

 _(What’s that?)_ He taps his own chest where the mark would be if Dean’s chest was his and then points.

He brings his fingers up and traces the curled edges of the mark. _(It’s a tattoo.)_

_(Sam has one too. Is it a marking of your family?)_

Dean laughs and shakes his head. _(No. It’s… it’s a long story.)_

Castiel smiles ruefully. _(I’m not going anywhere.)_

A frown tugs at Dean’s lips and Castiel wants to ignore his regret and his apologies. Dean drums his fingers on his thigh and looks between Castiel and the drawers at the end of his bed. _(Can you keep a secret?)_

Castiel nods. Aside from Sam and Jess, who else is there for him to tell? He doesn’t particularly want to talk to Meg and he hasn’t really spoken to Bobby yet. And he refuses to talk to anyone else beyond that. Dean must find this acceptable because he nods too and goes to the drawers. He crouches and opens the bottom one.

_(I’m technically not supposed to have this on board, but we break way more rules then they’re actually aware of so… As long as you don’t tell anyone.)_

His body blocks what he’s doing, but when he stands he’s holding a tall thick cylinder that narrows to a much thinner end. Dean holds it by the thin-end. It looks like glass and it’s half-full with an amber liquid that Castiel doesn’t recognize. There is a different coloured piece on the thin-end and Dean pulls it off before putting it to his lips and tilting the cylinder up until he can drink the contents. When he pulls the bottle away, he grimaces at it but his shoulders relax slightly. 

Castiel is not patient enough to wait for Dean to tell him what it is. He pokes at his thoughts with his curiosity and it makes Dean laugh. As he explains that the liquid is called ‘whiskey’ and it’s in a ‘bottle’, Dean returns to his place on the bed with his back to the wall. Whiskey is a kind of drink that humans make to lose themselves in, according to Dean. It’s a potent drink that steals inhibitions and loosens the mind and body.  It makes a person ‘drunk’, as Dean explains it.

He thinks that it might be another human thing he’s not going to be able to understand because it’s a something that the colony doesn’t have. The more Dean drinks the whiskey, the more blurred and incoherent his thoughts become. He’s laughing more and when he talks to Castiel, he speaks his thoughts with his voice too. Dean gestures become more exaggerated and sloppy.

Castiel settles in the corner between the glass-wall and the grey-wall, his tail folded under him. Dean starts talking about his nightmare without any prompting. He tells Castiel about how his mother died in a fire that ate their home. Castiel doesn’t know what ‘fire’ is and Dean shows him a flame from a small square of silver. The top half of it flips open and Dean drags his thumb over a rounded edge. A bright oval of flickering orange and red bursts out the top and flickers there before Dean closes it.

The red-yellow-orange from Dean’s nightmare are parts of his memories from the night his mother died.  Dean tries to show him the memories, but they are distorted by the whiskey muddling his mind. From them, Castiel manages to gather that Sam was still an infant at the time of the fire. He was small and Dean carried him out of the house while he father tried to find their mom.

Her name was Mary. His father’s name was John. Dean tries to explain that Mary’s death changed John and Castiel can understand why, though not from experience. They were in love and bond-mates. He’s seen fin-kin in the colony lose their minds when their bond-mate dies, even if the death is natural. Castiel thinks it might be different for fin-kin than it is for humans.

Fin-kin share so much of themselves through the kin-connection and it’s far more intimate for bond-mates. Thoughts and emotions are shared more openly and your mate becomes a part of you, almost literally. When a bond-mate dies, the fin-kin loses more than just a mate, they lose a piece of themselves. Very few fin-kin live on for much longer when their bond-mate dies.

Dean shows Castiel, in flashes of warped images, how John was never the same. They never settled down in a new home and they moved around a lot. It was a hard life for Sam and Dean. They never stayed in one place long enough to make lasting friends. John used to drink a lot too. More than Dean ever has, or ever will. He would spend most nights more drunk than Dean is now. Dean is adamant in explaining that John never hurt him and he never hurt Sam. John was a ‘sad drunk’.

Castiel doesn’t like these memories. Even though they are distorted, they are suffused with a bitter sadness. They put a far off look in Dean’s eyes and even though he’s looking directly at Castiel, he knows that Dean isn’t actually seeing him. It makes Castiel’s chest feel hollow.

He gets the urge to wrap Dean in his fans again when Dean’s hazy memories come forth with the time when John died. Dean tells Castiel about how he and Sam were waiting for John to come back to the temporary place they were staying and instead of John, it was the police who showed up and told them that John was in a car accident.

Dean doesn’t stop to explain what a car is, or what police are. Castiel adds them to an ever growing list of questions he has. He’ll have to ask Dean when he’s sober again. Or he might have to ask Sam instead. Dean barely acknowledges that Castiel is even here anymore. He’s reminiscing and Castiel thinks that Dean would be talking whether someone was present or not.

The memories get a little brighter after that. Dean starts to smile, a lopsided tilt to his lips that gets obscured by the bottle when he takes a drink. After John’s accident, Dean and Sam went to live with Bobby. Castiel adds their relationship with Bobby to his list. Dean liked his time living with Bobby. Sam was happy and he got to go to a place called ‘school’ and they both made a few friends.

But the brightness doesn’t last long and Dean’s next memories come on a swell of anger with the name and image of a girl. His memories of her start out with yellow hair, but her hair changes to black and it surprises Castiel. He didn’t know humans possessed the ability to change physical aspects of themselves like that. The girl’s name is Ruby and Dean’s feelings toward her are scalding and vibrating with hatred.

Castiel doesn’t understand exactly what Ruby did, but he manages to gather from the sharp fragments of the memories that Ruby and Sam were close and that it was a very bad thing. Sam got sick, a kind of sick that Castiel has never see before, and it was very upsetting to both Dean and Bobby. Apparently Sam’s sickness was because of Ruby.

The memories of when Sam left Dean and Bobby for Ruby are sad and angry and tinged with betrayal. Dean is scowling at the near empty bottle of whiskey and when he finishes it, he throws the bottle onto the pile of bedding. He tilts his head back against the wall and stares up at the ceiling. Dean isn’t talking anymore, but he’s still going through the memories. He’s still sharing them with Castiel and Castiel wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.

Dean is remembering how lonely it felt to be abandoned by Sam for Ruby. Ruby, who made Sam sick and wrong and was bad for him. It feels like a pit opens in Castiel’s stomach when a thrum of Dean’s nervous anticipation filters into the memories of his time searching for Sam. The pit expands and makes Castiel’s stomach clench unhappily when Dean remembers finding Sam half-dead in an alley. The same alley that Castiel recognizes from the memory with the knife. Ruby was with Sam and she was just as sick and wrong as he was, but she was always like that.

Castiel is prepared for the memory of the knife and it doesn’t hurt him like it did before. The moments leading up to it, when Dean is fighting off friends of Ruby’s, catch Castiel by surprise. He didn’t know that Dean was an excellent fighter. He dropped many of the enemies in the alley with his fists and his feet. He held his ground until Ruby got in the way. Castiel is just as stunned as Dean was then.

There are no memories of the alley after the knife. Castiel doesn’t know where it is that Dean wakes up, but everything blurs into one long rush of different rooms and many faces. Dean’s frustration from the memories fill the edges of the kin-connection. The rooms are broken up by the memory of getting the tattoo with Sam. The emotions that flow with it are of acceptance and forgiveness.

The stream of memories is becoming choppy and starting to slow down. Before they drop off completely, Castiel is given a few flashes of orange clothes and doors covered in bars. He’s seen pieces of these memories before, from the time when Lilith told Dean that he was to stay in this room with Castiel. They make Dean feel claustrophobic and they drop away, leaving the connection empty except for the buzz of several of Dean’s emotions. Castiel is watching him, but Dean is looking at the ceiling still.

 _(Are you okay?)_ Castiel asks softly, brushing gently against Dean’s muddled thoughts.

_(Cas, I haven’t been okay since I was four.)_

Dean tilts to the side until he falls over. He stretches his legs and his arms across the mattress before pulling the pillow under his head. Castiel is fidgeting with one of the fans along his tail. He pinches, rolls and folds the edge of it. He looks down and watches the fan uncurl when he lets go. He has so many questions he wants to ask Dean, but he has the feeling that he won’t get a straight answer right now.

_(Did’ja always glow in the dark or s’that new?)_

Castiel lifts his head and meets Dean’s bleary eyes over the edge of his pillow. He looks down again at his tail. When the lights are dimmed overhead, his glow returns. It’s very weak and Castiel is surprised Dean hadn’t noticed it before.  It happens every night. Castiel half-heartedly wishes that the room was darker, than his glow would return in full force. It would be a comfort to him and he could show Dean the light along the edges of his fans.

Dean reaches out and grabs the edge of the mattress. Castiel watches, confused, as Dean drags himself from the wall and staggers to his feet. He walks with wobbling steps to the door and his fingers fumble at the wall. Without warning, the dim lights blink out and the room is cast into a dark that reminds Castiel of the deep ocean.

There are small pin pricks of light along the opposite ledge, in the places where the machines are. The small-sea is dark until Castiel’s glow brightens. It bathes the area around him in a pale light and reflects on the glass. The school of fish dart along the border of shadow. Dean staggers into view on the other side of the glass. Castiel’s glow makes his face look ghostly white.

 _(Yer like m’own personal night-light.)_ Dean grins and picks up his phone. He opens it and points the back of the top half at Castiel for a few moments before replacing it on top of the drawers and slumping down on the bed again. _(Remind me t’show Sam that in the mornin’.)_ He leans over and tucks the empty bottle of whiskey into the mound of bedding, hiding it. _(I can keep the lights off every night if y’want, Cas. All y’gotta do is ask.)_

_(Thank you, Dean.)_

_(I know it sucks bein’ stuck in here. S’real small. I wanna make y’comfortable here til we get home. S’real nice there.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he stares at Dean. _Home._ Is Dean talking about his home beyond the shores? Or is he talking about Castiel’s home in the trench? Panic flares bright and hard in his chest and Castiel’s fingers tighten over his scales. He hasn’t given Sam nearly enough information about the colony to give them even the slightest hint of where his home is located.

 _(Y’okay?)_ Dean is struggling to sit back up and his concern is meandering into the connection.

Castiel takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. There is nothing for him to worry about. It isn’t possible for the humans to know where the colony is.

_(I’m fine, Dean. You should go back to sleep.)_

Dean’s amusement is wry and it flickers weakly in the connection. _(S’why I got drunk. S’the only way t’sleep after that kinda dream.)_ He pauses and he scratches his fingers through the short hair at the slope of his neck. There’s embarrassed gratitude creeping along the edges of his mind and it almost makes Castiel smile. _(Thanks for wakin’ me. I ‘preciate it, y’know?)_

Castiel knows. He shushes the tumble of Dean’s thoughts and waits until he’s made himself comfortable, curled on his side facing Castiel again. Then he starts to sing. There is a sharp jolt of surprise through their link, but it eases off into a hum of pleasure. Dean’s eyes slip closed as Castiel sings a popular lullaby from the colony. He sings loud enough to be heard outside the small-sea, and he hopes it’s not loud enough to be heard beyond their room.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to drift off. Castiel continues to sing to the dark room, hoping to keep any more of Dean’s bad dreams at bay. He tries not to think about how his nest brothers and sisters would react to him being so protective over a human, over one of his captors.

There is a small swell of hope sitting cold in his chest. It makes Castiel feel cruel. It is a hope that if he acts carefully, if he can get Dean to care for him enough, he could use Dean’s feelings to get him to set Castiel free. He realizes it’s not hope. It’s a plan. It’s the kind of plan a warrior would make.

And Castiel is a warrior.

x 

When Jess walks in, the clock’s little hand is pointing at the two circles stacked on top of each other and the big hand is tilted to the left, a few spaces shy of pointing straight up. The lights flicker on and Castiel closes his eyes at the sharp stab of them. Irritation crackles along the edge of Dean’s mind for a moment and Castiel looks over to see his nose scrunch before Dean rolls onto his other side, his back to Castiel, and pulls the pillow over his head. He must make a noise, because Jess turns to him sharply.

Castiel is sitting at the front of the small-sea. Next to him is a neat pile of bones and the fish have been gone for quite some time. He pushes the button on the microphone and speaks softly into it.

“Good morning, Jess. Please shhhh. Dean sleep.”

She smiles brightly at him and she fumbles a little with some drawers under the ledge. Jess finds the headset and puts it on, pressing her fingers to the flat-circle over her ear. Her voice is soft and a little hard to hear in the water. Castiel is pleased because it means she’s speaking softly so as not to disturb Dean.

“Hello Castiel. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” This is the second time he’s been asked this question first thing when they come in. Castiel wonders if it is part of their greeting or if there are many pleasantries that humans have to go through when talking to each other. “Jess sleep well?”

Jess’s is nearly bouncing and her smile is wide. “I did. Thank you for asking!”

Castiel nods and pulls away. He points to the bucket by the door and at the pile of bones. Jess immediately goes to get the bucket. Instead of holding it up to the edge of the wall for Castiel to push a handful through the bars one at a time, Jess goes to the platform against the left glass-wall. He gathers the bones and it takes only a small flick of his tail to carry him to meet her.

The mirror makes it a little disorienting. Castiel has to remember that the fin-kin swimming at him is really him swimming toward the mirror and he doesn’t need to duck out of the way. Jess unlocks and raises the bars. She’s watching him expectantly through the waves. His fans flutter against the floor before Castiel arches his back and twists up through the water. He flattens his gills to his neck and holds his breath, he doesn’t plan on staying up long enough to breathe any air.

Jess has the bucket waiting, titled against the lip of the glass, when Castiel breaks the surface. He beats his tail a few times to rise up enough to get his arms directly over the bucket and he lets the bones clatter into it. She steps away as he drops, slipping back underwater with barely a splash.

Castiel presses his hands to the wall and pushes away from it, executing a neat backward roll and stretching out in his lazy swim across the length of the small-sea. It’s not a long trip and he aches for more space to spread his fans and really _swim_. He wants to feel the burn of his muscles after a long swim through open waters. It’s hard not to think about whether or not he’ll ever feel that again.

Sam comes in just as Jess is putting the bucket back by the door. Castiel waits until he and Jess have spoken before he reaches for his mind.

_(Hello, Sam. Please don’t wake, Dean.)_

Sam is both startled and concerned. He leans around the edge of the small-sea to check on his brother and Castiel knows he notices that Dean is sleeping half-clothed without any of his bedding.

_(What happened last night?)_

_(He had a nightmare. I woke him.)_ Castiel shows him the memories and Sam covers his mouth with his hand. His mind is teeming with amusement. He leans close to Jess, his lips by her ear. Soon Jess is smiling too.

Sam leaves Jess by the computers and goes to the pile of bedding. His movements change subtly the closer he gets to Dean’s bed, becoming more slow and careful. Castiel thinks it might be because he is trying not to wake Dean and again he feels a warm pleased flush behind his ribs. Sam bends to pick up the bundle but he stills almost as soon as he touches it.

His burst of surprise quickly melts into disapproval and disappointment. He lifts up the edge of the fitted sheet and Castiel knows he’s found the empty bottle. Sam’s expression is dark and displeased and the eyes he lifts to look at Dean are brimming with the anger that Castiel can feel radiating through the link. It is clear to him that Sam does not like it when Dean drinks.

Castiel doesn’t want Sam to be mad at Dean. He tries to soothe Sam like he did with Dean earlier. Sam shrugs off the touch and firmly closes the bundle before picking it up. His lips are pressed in a thin line and even Jess notices the tension in his shoulders. She crosses over to him, hand raised and reaching for his arm. She stops when Sam twists around to stare at Castiel when he presses a few words through the connection.

_(His nightmare was filled with fire and knives.)_

Almost immediately Sam’s expression softens and his shoulders sag. Jess is at his side. She must be itching to ask questions, but she isn’t. Castiel wonders if it’s because he asked them to stay quiet. Sam leans over and presses a kiss to her forehead. He shakes his head and draws away from her and toward the door.

_(I’ll be right back. I’m going to dispose of the evidence and get these washed.)_

Castiel doesn’t watch him leave. He swims in restless circles around the small-sea. He notes that Jess sits in front of one of the computers. Meg arrives not long after Sam leaves. She waves at Castiel and he wiggles his fingers at her in a lazy greeting without stopping his laps.

Meg has a big brown square of paper under her arm and she gives it to Jess. Castiel changes his pattern into zigzaging twists, going from the floor of the small-sea to the surface, arching sharply so his back-fans barely brush the bars above the water, and going almost straight down again. It keeps him entertained until he reaches the next wall.

There is an itch under his skin and Castiel doesn’t know how to scratch it. It’s different from the untouched arousal from yesterday. That had been frustrating. This was more _infuriating._ The powerful muscles of his tail feel tight with disuse and he wants to stretch them. Performing the warrior exercises did him little good during the hours after Dean fell asleep and Jess arrived. The twisting, rolling chase to catch his meal by the light of his glow had eased the ache slightly, but it wasn’t enough.

He stops when Sam returns. Castiel notices that Jess and Meg are looking at squares of black they’ve spread out on the table where the shaving tools had been put yesterday. Every so often they’ll pick one up and hold it up to the light. The squares are glossy, covered in pale curving lines, and Castiel can see through them a little. It’s not like the paper that he’s seen before.

Sam brightens and his excitement is palpable in the connection when he sees what they’re holding. He starts walking toward them but stops when Castiel knocks on the glass. Castiel has a message for him and he means to deliver it before he forgets. He points at Dean’s phone still resting on top of the drawers.

 _(Dean said to remind him to show you something on his phone.)_ He shows him a brief flash of the memory of how Dean held the phone last night.

Sam’s eyebrows draw together in brief confusion that is quickly drowned by his curiosity. He turns and walks with exaggerated softness to get the phone. There is a soft pulse of annoyance from Sam’s side of the connection as he stares at it. He not exactly sure what it was Dean wanted to show him and Castiel listens in amusement as he pokes at random buttons.

Castiel knows when Sam has found what he’s looking for. His eyebrows raise dramatically and he lifts wide eyes to stare at him. He tilts his head and waits until Sam explains why there are waves of excitement and surprise rolling into the link. Rather than explain, Sam quickly shuts the door. Meg and Jess look towards him, both frowning in confusion and then the room is pitched into darkness as Sam turns off the lights.

Jess and Meg must make noises of protest because a buzz of irritation rises from Dean’s connection. Castiel presses calming thoughts against it, trying to lull Dean back to sleep. His glow starts weak and like the fish it draws Sam, Jess and Meg to the edge of the small-sea. He can see the shadows of their shapes against the backdrop of black that makes up the rest of the room.

Within a few seconds, his glow is bright enough to light the features of their faces. All three of them look fascinated. Castiel doesn’t quite understand why. Maybe, because of the bright-pearl in steady-blue and the lights that the humans can make themselves, there are no creatures who live above water that have their own glow. It’s a difficult concept for Castiel to grasp because there are so many different creatures with glows that live in the trench or at the bottom of the ocean.

Jess goes to the opposite ledge and comes back with a camera. Just like she did at the light-beds, she lifts it to her face. Castiel can’t hear the clicking of it like he could then. Sam’s excitement is nearly tangible and his grin is wide.

_(We had no idea that you have bioluminescence. This is amazing! Do you know how it works? Can you control it?)_

Castiel frowns and shrugs. His glow works like the rest of his body does and he’s never really thought about it before. He twists and flares his fans so Jess can take pictures of the glow along the spines of his back-fans and along the edges of his tail-fans. Castiel even demonstrates for them that he can, with some concentration, dim the glow.

_(So the pattern on your tail is really your luminescent trail? It looks the same. Since you can control it, than it must be a chemical reaction instead of bacteria. Is there anything else you can do that we don’t know about?)_

He shrugs again. There isn’t much about his body that they haven’t already seen. Castiel realizes that with all the light around, he hasn’t been using his echolocation. It’s possible that Sam doesn’t know about that. He’s right, judging by the pleased surprise that bursts brightly through the connection when he fires off a flurry of chirping clicks.

Meg turns the lights back on and everyone winces. Castiel hisses and flares his fans unhappily. He’s accustomed to the dark and even after many days in this lit room, he is still not quite used to just how _bright_ it can be. Jess takes the camera to the ledge and sits down. Sam explains that she’s going to put the pictures from the camera onto the computer. Castiel stops him from explaining further. He barely understands what a computer _is_.

Sam follows Meg to the table with the black squares. He picks up a few and brings them to the small-sea. Castiel drifts closer to the wall and Sam holds up one of them to the glass.

_(These are the x-rays that Alistair and Gordon took yesterday.)_

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise and he presses to the glass, looking closely at the images of his insides. Sam points out the curves of his ribs and the line of his spine. He points at different blotches of colour that are apparently Castiel’s internal organs and explains how similar they are to the insides of a human. He shows Castiel several more x-ray pictures before Castiel is bored enough to swim away.

He knows what fin-kin look like on the inside. He’s seen the bones of the dead, picked clean by scavenger fish on the sea floor where they’ve had their battles. He’s cut open his own fair share of enemies and swam through clouds of their blood, leaving them to be finished by sharks too mindless with a feeding frenzy to stay away from a battlefield. He’s seen more than he’s ever wanted to and he doesn’t need to know what his own look like.

Sam doesn’t have any more questions for him at the moment and Castiel lets their connection drift until he wants to speak to him again. He returns to his irregular laps around the small-sea, waiting until Dean wakes up on his own. He still has many questions for Dean and he won’t ask Sam. It’s not that he _can’t_ ask him. Castiel doesn’t want to accidentally anger Dean by telling Sam about all the things Dean showed him during the night.

Dean had been angry yesterday when Sam had showed him things Dean wasn’t prepared to share with Castiel. He doesn’t want a repeat of that happening. Sam might not be happy that Dean shared so much about their pasts without first consulting him and Castiel could get in trouble for telling Sam that Dean shared it in the first place.

Human interactions have the potential of being so _confusing_. Castiel catches himself before he starts thinking about how simple life was back in the colony. He doesn’t need to drive himself to upset with thoughts like that.

The small hand on the clock reaches the number composed of a straight line and a circle. Dean still isn’t awake. The big hand  is just past halfway to the bottom of the clock when the door opens and Lilith walks in. Castiel doesn’t like her and he doesn’t stop swimming to greet her. The connection with Sam swells with unhappy surprise and a nervous panic. Sam and Jess are both looking subtly at Dean and Castiel gets the feeling that Dean might get in trouble for still being asleep.

Lilith sends a disapproving frown in Dean’s direction. Her dress – red this time, instead of white – swirls around her legs when she turns and walks toward him. Castiel stops sharply with a flare of his fans and knocks hard on the glass, startling her. He hisses and spreads his spines as wide as they will go. It’s a sign of aggression and even though he has no plans to hurt Lilith, he wants her to know that she should stay away from Dean.

He can see the lines of Lilith’s jaw tighten and she narrows her eyes at him. She turns again and walks quickly back to the others. Sam isn’t as well versed with translating through the connection as Dean is, but Castiel understands the basis of Lilith’s conversation with them. She’s asking why Dean is still sleeping. Sam lies to her. He tells her that Dean wasn’t feeling well during the night and was sick on his clothes and bedding.

 _(Make them_ stop _.)_

Dean’s whine is ringing with pain. It’s different from the pain he was feeling with his memories. Castiel reaches out to try and soothe it, but the brush of his mind makes Dean flinch and draw away. He pouts when he feels Dean put up a wall between them. It’s not as solid as the previous times Dean’s kept Castiel out. He can still hear some of his thoughts, but he can’t actually touch Dean’s mind.

_(Sorry, Cas. Apparently hangovers and the kin-connection don’t mix. Keep your hands off my brain until I can get some Tylenol in me or something.)_

Castiel doesn’t know how to answer that. He decides to fill Dean in on the situation. _(I think you should act ill when you get up. Sam told Lilith you were sick during the night. She’s still here, by the way.)_

Dean sits up quickly, eyes wide and hair tousled. The others all turn to look at him. Meg looks smug, as if she’s happy that Dean is potentially going to be in trouble with Lilith. Jess and Sam both look vaguely horrified that Dean is not only awake, but – according to Sam’s thoughts – he’s wearing nothing but his underpants in front of their boss. Lilith is glaring hotly, everything from the frown on her face to the way she holds her shoulders is telling Castiel that she doesn’t believe that Dean is sick.

Dean drops his pillow into his lap and looks away. He’s face has gone red and if the kin-connection was fully open, Castiel thinks he might be drowning in Dean’s embarrassment. Lilith points at the drawers at the end of Dean’s bed and her words through the glass are sharp and clipped. Dean nods and slides off the bed. His expression turns to confusion and Castiel notices him looking around at the floor.

_(Sam took the bedding to be cleaned.)_

Dean winces and looks guiltily toward his brother as he pulls fresh clothes from the drawers. Sam shakes his head and one shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. Castiel subtly checks his connection with Sam to make sure he isn’t upset with Dean for drinking himself to sleep. Dean dresses quickly while Castiel tells him that Sam knows about the nightmare.

Lilith’s glare doesn’t leave Dean until he’s taken his brown pouch and left the room.

_(Just gotta freshen up and then I’ll be right back, Cas. Sam will keep you safe, I promise.)_

As soon as Dean’s gone, Lilith turns to Sam and starts talking rapidly. It’s too fast for Sam to translate everything. As far as Castiel can tell, Lilith is asking about the kin-connection. Sam is both confused and surprised and displeased that she knows about it. His confusion ebbs into annoyance towards Meg. Castiel thinks that Meg might be the one who told Lilith. He reminds Sam that yesterday he told Jess that he was talking with Castiel through the kin-connection and that Meg had been sitting right there.

Sam chastises himself for it. Castiel brushes it off. He doesn’t care who knows and if the humans are studying him, more of them will have to know about the kin-connection at some point. As it is, they won’t be able to create the link with him. Castiel will only talk to the humans he wants to talk to.

Lilith is not one of them.

 _(She wants you to talk to her.)_ Sam turns his eyes from Lilith to Castiel. A cautious hope is creeping along his words and his eyes are pleading.

Castiel’s fans ripple in displeasure and he drifts over to the microphone. He looks directly at Lilith when he pushes the button and speaks. “No.”

Lilith’s eyes narrow dangerously. She speaks sharply and quickly to Sam.

_(She wants to know why not?)_

He presses the button again. “No like Lilith.”

Her cheeks go red and she starts gesturing widely with her hands. She’s isn’t yelling yet, but Castiel thinks she might soon. Especially if he continues to turn her down. His side-fans flick out widely at one of the things Sam translates in Lilith’s demands. Even Sam’s mind is vibrating along the edges with dislike for her words.

Castiel bares his fangs and hisses, smacking his hand on the glass before pressing the button.

“Lilith no own Castiel.”

Lilith’s lips curl into a snide grin and she actually _laughs_. She takes the few short steps to carry her to the glass-wall at the front of the small-sea. Castiel twists up until his eyes are level with hers. He refuses to let her glare down at him like he’s something _lesser_ than the warrior of the colony that he is.

They glare at each other for several long moments and Castiel will not back down first.  Without looking away, Lilith raises her hand and holds it a little behind her shoulder. Her fingers twitch slightly and Castiel recognizes the way her lips form Sam’s name when she speaks. He doesn’t recognize the words that follow, but Sam steps closer and he translates for her, word for word.

 _(This is my crew, my boat, my tank and my expedition. They caught you on_ my _orders and they do what I pay them to. They feed you because I tell them to and I can just as easily have them_ stop _.)_ Sam’s thoughts stutter and burn white hot with anger.

_(That’s not true! Even if she told us to, we’d never let you starve.)_

Although he’s grateful for the assurance, Castiel grits his teeth and his upper lip twitches back in a snarl. He asks Sam for the next words he wants to speak. He wants to be the one to say them to Lilith and he wants to be perfectly clear without stumbling over his stilted used of their language. Behind Lilith’s shoulder, Sam clearly tries to fight a devious smile as he gives Castiel the words he needs.

He tips his head forward and pins Lilith with his most challenging look. His fans are flared as wide as they can go and he reaches down to press the button. 

“Go ahead.”

Her smug smile falls into a disdainful sneer. She turns and speaks to the others and both Sam and Jess look equally horrified. Castiel knows, through Sam, that Lilith is telling them he isn’t to be fed until he starts cooperating with _everyone_ and not just Dean and Sam. Even Meg raises her eyebrows at this order.

Castiel starts to calculate how long he thinks he’ll be able to last. He’s gone a few days without eating before and that was pretty bad, but he was in the middle of a war and hunting was scarce at the time. He was far more active then than he is now. If he doesn’t move much for the next few days he could slow his metabolism and last longer. But even he can’t predict how long it will be before the hunger gets to him. He doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to keep himself from begging for something to eat.

He doesn’t want to place any hope in Sam’s words that they’ll keep feeding him despite Lilith’s command not to. 

When Dean gets back and Sam tells him about what happened, Dean throws his brown pouch across the room. It splits open and the contents scatter over the floor. The only thing Castiel recognizes is the razor. Jess cleans up the mess.

 _(Why the_ hell _would you tell her that, Cas?!)_ Dean is angry and yelling with words at Sam and thoughts at Castiel.

_(Are you saying I should be cowed by her? I’m not afraid of her, Dean, and I won’t let her push me around.)_

Dean is pacing and he’s dropped the wall in their connection. Castiel is subjected to the full brunt of his anger and frustration. But most of all, he can feels Dean’s fear. Dean is afraid that he won’t be able to keep him alive if he insists on butting heads with Lilith. He’s scared that Lilith will lock up Dean and Sam and Jess, and maybe even Meg, and keep them away from Castiel where they won’t be able to help him.

Sam explains that Lilith has many other people working for her that are more loyal to her than they are. If she gives the order to keep Sam and Dean away from Castiel, they won’t be able to fight it. If they did, they could be in more trouble than just with Lilith. Humans are bound by many laws and rules that Sam doesn’t explain because there are so many intricacies that they could still be talking about it well into tomorrow.

_(We’ll do our best to get around her orders, but for your sake, Castiel, please don’t start fights with her.)_

_(Why did she want me to talk with her?)_ Castiel narrows his eyes at Sam and crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

 _(She…)_ Sam shifts and looks away.

Jess and Meg have returned to their work, albeit slowly. Dean is still pacing and his aggravated anger continues to flare up through the connection even though he isn’t speaking directly to Castiel at the moment.

Sam runs his hand through his hair and looks back. _(She didn’t think it was fair that you talk to me and Dean and not her. She really does think she owns you, y’know? You’re her… her_ pet _. This science stuff? It’s just so she can make a tax write off for all the money she’s spending on catching herself a fin-kin. I know you don’t understand that, but Lilith is a_ collector _. She likes owning rare things that no one else has, and you’re one of them. The moment we caught you, by human standards, you belonged to her.)_

Castiel snarls and beats his tail against the floor, rising up and spreading his fans again. _(I belong to_ no one! _)_

He severs his connection to both Sam and Dean. Rather than curl up against the grey-wall and hide under his fans from them, Castiel swims. It’s a foolish thing to do, considering he might not be given food for many days. But he is angry and needs to _move_.

By the time the small hand of the clock is pointing at the stacked-half-circles, Castiel hasn’t stopped swimming. He is unsatisfied and the itch is back under his skin. He’s tried to stop, just to rest for a moment, but he can’t hold still. It’s nearly unbearable to stay in one place for long. His time has been sent practicing battle formations and imagining the rest of his garrison in line on either side of him. It’s difficult in the tight confines of the small-sea and it only serves to raise his ire.

He’s purposefully not paid any attention to what the humans are doing beyond the glass-walls. For the last several hours Castiel actually has no idea what Sam and Dean, or Jess and Meg, have been up to. He has no desire nor curiosity to see and even though his mind is craving the contact of the kin-connection, the buzz of being close to someone, he doesn’t reach out to anyone.

On what could be his hundredth or his thousandth time around, Castiel notices that the bars are still raised. It’s a desperate split-second decision that has him swimming straight for the opening. He flattens his back-fans as tight as they’ll go and breaks the surface in a grand splash. His momentum carries him halfway over the glass-wall and the edge of it catches him painfully just beneath his stomach.

By then he can hear their voices shouting but he pays no attention to them. He sends water spraying everywhere with the thrashing of his tail as he tries to lift himself up enough to get over the edge. Castiel is coughing the water from his lungs and his throat itches with the feel of the air. He lands on the platform shoulder-first and pain pierces down his arm and back in bright bolts.

A hand is on his arm and it’s not his own. Castiel snarls and lashes out with claws. “No touch!”

He only vaguely registers that it’s Sam who falls back with a pained grunt, red seeping through the sleeves of his white coat. Jess is at his side almost immediately and pressing her hands tightly to the wounds Castiel has given him.

Castiel’s left shoulder burns when he pushes himself up. His arms tremble. He doesn’t have any water to help buoy him, and for the first time Castiel is lifting his full weight. He grips the edge of the platform and twists his tail, trying to get some kind of leverage. With more difficulty than he thought, Castiel manages to pull and push himself to the edge. It’s not too far to the floor, but he grunts when he drops to it in a curled mess of his tail.

When he rights himself, there are legs blocking his way. Castiel looks up and Meg is pointing the dart-gun at him again. Castiel watches her finger and ducks to the side when it tightens over the curl of metal that makes the dart fly. It tears a hole through the fan along the left side of his tail by his hip but Castiel doesn’t even feel it. The dart clatters across the floor uselessly. He bunches his tail beneath him and uses the coil to launch himself forward, knocking into her legs and sending Meg crashing to the ground with a sharp cry.

He’s managed to drag and push himself halfway to the door before it swings open and Dean is there. Castiel didn’t even know he was gone. He’s holding the square white boxes that Castiel knows hold their food. Castiel doesn’t stop to wonder why Dean is holding five instead of the usual four. Dean’s mouth is hanging open and he’s staring wide-eyed down at him. Castiel flares his fans and hisses at him.

“Move, Dean!”

Dean’s eyes track from him back the way he came. Castiel knows the moment that Dean sees Sam bleeding. He closes his mouth, his jaw goes tight, and his eyes harden. The white containers hit the ground and a few of them spill their contents. The smells are strong and new and if this was a different situation Castiel would have liked to learn what each one was, but Dean is walking forward with long steps that bring him _right there._

“No touch!” Castiel tries to get out of the way, but out of the water he is slow and fumbling and Dean is on him before he can get upright enough to fight him off.

Castiel thrashes, rolling onto his back to try and push Dean away. His tail knocks over two of the chairs and slaps noisily against the floor and the outside of the small-sea. Dean gets his wrists in his hands and he keeps trying to hold them down against his sides. He manages to pin them to the floor. Castiel is shouting at him in his native language. He tries to twists his arms free, fingers scrabbling to dig his claws in. Dean stays well out of reach of Castiel’s teeth.

“Cas, stop!”

Deans has one leg on either side of Castiel’s hips and his knees are pinching his fans against the floor. It’s painful but it’s not enough to get Castiel to stop. He arches his back in an attempt to knock Dean off and Dean settles himself more heavily. Before Castiel can curl the end of his tail forward to hit him from behind, a weight – Jess – drops over it.

“No!” Cas writhes ineffectively under Dean and Jess. “ _No!_ ”

With Jess, and now Meg, holding his tail down, Dean slides up until he’s centered over Castiel’s stomach. He’s leaning forward, the weight of his upper body pressing heavily down on his wrists. They’re pinned to the floor up by his shoulders.

“Calm down, Cas! Christ, _calm down!_ ”

The world is blurred and Castiel realizes belatedly that he’s crying. He doesn’t care, but his attempts to dislodge Dean are becoming less frantic, desperate. His chest is heaving and each breath rattles painfully. Castiel strains against Dean’s hands a few more times before he goes limp. When he looks up at Dean again, he’s expecting anger in his eyes for hurting Sam.

All he sees is pain.

Castiel opens his mouth and his words come out on a strangled sob. “Home! Please, Dean, _please!_ ” He closes his eyes and rocks his head back. It bares his throat to Dean, but he doesn’t care because Dean’s already won. He has Castiel pinned and helpless. He cries his most important plea again. “ _Home!_ ”

There is no response and Castiel’s stifled sobs fill the room. They’re accompanied by the humans’ heavy breathing. He doesn’t expect Dean to let go of his arms so soon, not before Meg or Sam or Jess can get him with the sleeping dart again. But Dean does. His wrists throb dully when the tight grip is gone, but Dean’s hands don’t go far.

Castiel opens his eyes in surprise and his sob catches in his throat when Dean’s hands slip under his back and lift him up against his chest. Dean moves back down his body, sitting astride Castiel’s lap again and he holds Castiel tightly. His face is pressed into Castiel’s damp hair and he’s whispering words against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so fucking sorry. If I could, I would. I really would. But I don’t know _how_. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_.” He repeats it again and again and again.

Castiel can hear it above him and he feels the vibrations of the words under his cheek. His arms are hanging loosely down his sides. It would be so _easy_ to reach up and tear at him with his claws or open his mouth and _bite_. Dean is leaving himself open to any number of attacks and over his litany, Castiel can hear Sam’s objections. It's another staggering example of Dean's trust in Castiel. It takes him several long moments to recognize that the burn in his chest isn’t because he’s holding his breath. He doesn’t know the right words to name or describe this ache behind his ribs.

His first breath is thin, little more than a hiss of air between his teeth. The second rattles down his throat and into his lungs. The third is a sob that makes his shoulders quake. Before Castiel realizes it, he’s curling his fingers into the back of Dean’s shirt and clutching at him as tightly as he can. He’s crying against Dean’s chest like he did as a hatchling crying against Gabriel when their father disappeared.

Castiel cries until he has no more tears and the sobs that continue to wrack his body are dry and painful. His throat is tight and threatens to choke him at any moment and his face feels hot where it’s pressed against Dean’s neck. He keeps whimpering out broken pleas between breaths and Dean continues to whisper apologies, fingers brushing through Castiel’s now dry hair in soothing strokes that travel down his neck and spine before starting again.

He doesn’t remember when Dean moved them, but they’re sitting with Dean’s back against the small-sea. Castiel is twisted in his lap. They’re chest to chest and Castiel’s tail is wrapped under Dean’s bent knees and folded back over his feet. Dean’s right hand is curled over his hip, holding Castiel in place. Somebody keeps dripping water over his scales and Dean’s jeans are soaked from it.

Castiel sniffles when he finally lifts his head. Meg and Jess are gone and Sam is sitting with his long legs bent and crossed before him. His back is to the closed door and he’s got the bucket next to him. When Castiel’s tail starts to dry, he dips a very-small-bucket into it and pours the water over his scales. Towels are placed all around them, soaking up the excess that drips to the floor. Sam’s coat is gone and the sleeves of his crisscross-patterned shirt are pushed up to his elbows. His left forearm is wrapped tight with bandages that are already stained through with red.

Castiel wipes at his nose with the back of his hand and leans his forehead against the side of Dean’s jaw. He watches Sam demurely and when he speaks, his voice is little more than a croak. “Sorry, Sam.”

Sam looks from Castiel to his arm and back. The corner of his mouth crooks up in a small smile and he shrugs. “It’s fine. Happens to the best of us. And I really wasn’t expecting to get out of that without a scratch or two.”

Without the kin-connection, Castiel barely understands half of what he says. His head feels tight and there’s a pounding in his temples. He’s too drained to even think about trying to reach out and connect to either Sam or Dean. Castiel tries another question, hoping for a simple answer. “Sam okay?”

“Yes, Castiel, I’m okay.” He nods.

Castiel’s fans ripple lightly in response and it makes him wince. He looks down at the hole in his webbing. He reaches to assess the damage with touch, but Dean catches his hand with his own and presses it back to his shoulder where Castiel had been holding his shirt.

“Don’t touch it, Cas. Let it heal.”

He lifts his head to look at Dean. He’s tilted his face up and his eyes are closed. Castiel's right hand is tucked against the small of Dean's back. He gently presses his fingers into the muscle. “Dean okay?”

Dean nods. “M’fine. Gonna have a few really nice bruises though. You okay now?”

“No.” Castiel shakes his head and leans against him to press his face into Dean’s neck again.

Dean is a wall of warmth and even though Castiel is used to the cold waters of the deep, he finds it comforting and relaxing. He’s tired and dry and he wants to go back in the water, but at the same time he never wants to wet his tail in the small-sea again. He hates the confining walls and the slowly stagnating water.

He starts trembling again and his eyes hurt from the sting of tears that aren’t there. Dean’s arm tightens over his shoulders and he brings up the other to squeeze Castiel against his chest. By all accounts, this should feel more closed off and small than the glass-walls of small-sea. But here Castiel feels better. He’s warm and he feels safe and secure.

Castiel tilts his head and rubs his nose into the dip of Dean’s collarbone. Dean smells like nothing Castiel has ever smelled before. There’s the tang of salt on his skin and beneath that, a deeper, darker roll of scent that Castiel thinks might be purely Dean. He likes it and it suits him. Dean tilts his head back more when Castiel tucks up under his chin to press his nose under his jaw.

Sam huffs a little laugh and Castiel doesn’t know what he finds amusing. Dean’s chest jerks under his hand and a puff of air ruffles Castiel’s hair.  “Shut up, Sammy.”

There’s a clicking noise and Castiel lifts his head in time to see Sam lowering his phone. Dean snorts again but doesn’t move. “I’m not above tossing your damn phone overboard, y’know.”

“Oh come on, it’s cute. Wait until I show Jess!”

Dean makes a weak grabbing motion for Sam’s phone and Sam laughs as he holds it out of reach. The spot where Dean’s hand had been resting on Castiel’s side grows cold and he doesn’t like it. He grabs Dean’s wrist and puts it back in place before curling tighter against Dean. Sam makes little cooing noises and Dean tells him to ‘shut up’ again, but he doesn’t take his hands away.

Castiel lets his thoughts wander slightly as Dean and Sam make rude noises at each other. He notes absently that Dean’s bedding is folded and piled neatly on the ledge by the door. For a moment he wonders when those were returned and who brought them back. Castiel thinks it was probably Jess. He can’t barely see Dean’s bed from where they’re sitting. It’s mostly obscured by the solid base of the small-sea.

He can see the large square of white that Dean put up on the wall the other day. Castiel never did get the chance to ask what it and the squares with the numbers are. He wants to ask now, but he knows if Dean answers with his voice he won’t understand most, if not all, of his answer.

It takes more energy than he’s willing to admit to reach out to Dean. To his surprise, Dean grasps the weak tendrils of the kin-connection and _pulls_. He strengthens it and reaches through and his touch is gentle and as soothing as the hand pressing into the muscles along the edges of his back-fans. Dean doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even physically react, but he offers up all the comfort that he can with just his thoughts.

Castiel basks in it. He takes Dean’s kindness and wraps himself up tight in the reassuring feeling that is _Dean_. He lets Dean warm both his body and his mind and for several long moments Castiel finds it hard to care about anything else. It stirs up an oddly light and floating feeling in his chest that is at once both frightening and one of the best things he’s ever felt.

The splash of cool water on his scales and the webbing of his fans jolts Castiel from sinking into the calming abyss that he’s quickly coming to associate to Dean. He blinks his eyes open and wonders when he shut them. The corner of the white paper on the wall catches his attention again and Castiel remembers why he wanted to talk to Dean.

He dredges up an image of the squares on the paper and slides it through the connection. Dean takes it and Castiel hears and feels a thoughtful hum vibrate under his cheek.

 _(It’s a calendar. We use it to keep track of days, weeks, months and years.)_ He explains slowly, with simple images and small words about how the humans count days.

Castiel looks at the calendar again and asks Dean about the bright red lines drawn through some of the squares. Dean explains that he’s marked how many days Castiel has been on the ship. Despite Castiel’s grumble of protest, he moves his hands long enough to spread all his fingers. On one hand he lowers all the fingers except his thumb.

_(This is how many days you’ve been here.)_

A heavy weight settles in Castiel’s chest. He’s been gone from the colony for nearly an entire sentry rotation. His turn would have been tonight. The quick thrum of sadness that rises at the thought is swallowed up by Dean’s touch as he wraps Castiel in his mind again and hugs him close.

Castiel forcefully turns his attention back to the calendar. Far at the bottom, a few rows of squares away from the red lines marking his imprisonment, there is a day circled many times in red. Castiel brushes the image of it with curiosity against Dean’s mind. Dean’s body tenses and his arms tighten almost painfully around Castiel.

 _(That’s when the boat reaches our home.)_ The words are cold and not nearly as happy as Dean had been when he’d spoken about his home during the night. _(That’s when you’ll be moved from here to Lilith’s place. That’s when we’ll be separated and you’ll never see the ocean again.)_

Castiel reflexively tightens his grip on Dean and his fans flare where they aren’t held down by Dean’s arms. Dean shushes him with a soft touch.

_(That’s how long Sam and I have to get you back to the sea.)_

 


	7. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _(I don’t understand what’s so great about kissing.)_ Castiel rubs his hands over his face and tries not to roll his eyes at Dean’s optimism. _(I think it would just be easier to never do anything and devote myself to the protection of the colony.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big HOLY FUCKING THANK YOU to everyone who gave me such amazing comments and fanarts and to everyone who stopped to read this and bookmark, subscribe, etc. _I love you all so much thank you._ ~~I cry every time you guys do anything.~~
> 
> Make sure you check out the absolutely wonderful fanart and the amazing people who drew them!
>
>> \- If you missed it (because I went back and added it) there is a simply [GORGEOUS work](http://msmerc.tumblr.com/post/37328614939/wow-im-so-done-with-looking-at-this-now-enjoy) by [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) that I added to the end of the last chapter. It's the final scene and it's just amazing.  
> \- I've gone back and added [this](http://mysterymind277.tumblr.com/post/37561949207/as-a-hatchling-castiel-used-to-sleep-curled-in-a) to the chapter it goes with too. But it's an adorable drawing of baby fin-kin nest-siblings done by [mystermind277](http://mystermind277.tumblr.com).  
> \- A wonderfully drawn [mer!Castiel](http://seraphlimonade.tumblr.com/post/37394146208/speedpainting-inspired-by-this-wonderful-au) (featured below) by [seraphlimonade](http://seraphlimonade.tumblr.com).  
> \- An amazing [head-canon scene](http://teamabodo.tumblr.com/post/37457998261/i-drew-art-for-out-of-the-deep-because-thats) of Castiel's return to his nest-siblings done by the amazing [teamabodo](http://teamabodo.tumblr.com).  
> \- A simply ridiculously adorable [mer!Castiel](http://spndoodles.tumblr.com/post/37463924439/ive-fallen-beyond-in-love-with-out-of-the-deep-so) (that I think looks like he's in the small-sea and giving Dean the sad eyes and I love it) by the wonderful [spndoodles](http://spndoodles.tumblr.com). (featured below)  
> \- **EDIT: Added[this wonderful drawing](http://msmerc.tumblr.com/post/37772618748/more-out-of-the-deep-art-ive-lost-control-of-my) by [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) to below because it belongs with this chapter and it's simply aoiwejfa;weoijf;oawei worthy!**  
> 
> 
> I would also like to note that I've made a few pages on my tumblr. The [Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) page has links to all the fanart, a few Q&As that I've answered on Tumblr, and some random tidbits (mostly concerning me and OotD). Then there's the [Things I'm Working On](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/wips) page that is basically progress and some information on stories that I'm currently writing. You can check on that to see how many pages I've got done, or what other things are in the works.

The rumbling noises that wake him take a moment to coalesce into something recognizable. Castiel doesn't lift his head or open his eyes, he doesn't even move. He is, quite possibly, the most comfortable he has ever been. The rumble that woke him is start-stopping under his cheek, his pillow rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

"I really don't want to wake him. After this afternoon he was so _tired_. And he looks so... peaceful right now."

"Yeah, Sam, I get that. But that doesn't change the fact that I've gotta piss like a frikken racehorse. He's like a goddamn _octopus_. Help me get 'em off!"

"Can't you just hold it?"

"I've been holding it for over an hour, Sammy! My eyeballs are gonna start floating soon."

His pillow shifts and Castiel grunts his disapproval, pressing as close to the warmth as physically possible. He tightens his arms and his tail and his pillow vibrates with a groan.

 _(Fuck, Cas, if you're awake for the love of all that's good stop_ squeezing _me or we're gonna have an accident and I_ really _don't wanna go down in history as the guy who pissed on a fin-kin.)_

_(I am comfortable and you are warm.)_

_(I get that, dude, I totally do. But I've got to_ pee. _)_ Dean's urgency presses heavily through the kin-connection and there’s a swell of panic beneath it.

Castiel pulls away slowly. As soon as he is no longer pressed against Dean, his skin feels chilled by the air and he has to fight the urge to lean against him again. He stifles a yawn and rubs at his eyes before he looks around, checking for Sam. He knows he heard his voice. The chairs have been moved and Sam is standing in front of the computers by the moving very-small-sea from yesterday.

He sits up quickly, fans flaring in displeased surprise and a flash of panic. Why is that here? Are they going to take pictures of his insides again? Are they going to try and _see_ his insides? Did Alistair or Gordon return while Castiel slept? It was so foolish of him to fall asleep outside the small-sea where he can’t move as freely. But he had been so _tired_ and Dean had been so _warm_ , and _comfortable_ , and he made Castiel feel _safe._

Dean’s hands are immediately on his shoulders and pulling him back against him. His palms are warm where they settle over Castiel’s chest, one hand resting over the quick beat of his heart. He floods the link with calm and coos soft noises close to his side-fan.

_(It’s okay, Cas. There’s no x-ray machine or anything to go with it, I promise. You didn’t want to go back into the tank because the water is getting gross, right? So Sam went and got you this for the night. It might be a little cramped, since you’re longer than it is, but the water is fresh. Well, more fresh than the tank, at least.)_

Sam is looking at them expectantly. Castiel notes how tired he seems and he glances at the clock. The small hand is a few numbers beyond the number when Sam usually leaves. Castiel’s tail is damp and he realizes that Sam has been keeping his scales wet the whole time that he’s been sleeping. He had fallen asleep while Dean and Sam sent messages to each other with their phones.

As Dean had explained it, conversations that happen in the room are recorded for scientific purposes, so that they can look back and study the tapes in case they missed anything that Castiel says or does. Dean said that that is the ‘official’ reason. In reality, Lilith is paranoid and possessive and wants to make sure that no one tries to steal Castiel.

Castiel is both thankful and relieved that there is no way to record the kin-connection.  He is very interested in seeing the pictures that move on screens that look like the computers on the ledge opposite the small-sea. Dean had made the promise to show him shortly before Castiel fell asleep to the tapping of their phones and the steady beat of Dean’s heart against his cheek.

He eyes the very-small-sea warily, but he can’t feel any deception from Dean. Their link still pulses with Dean’s need to relieve himself, but above it all it vibrates with honesty and the constant thrum of calming thoughts. Castiel nods and relaxes slowly. He slides off of Dean’s lap and Dean quickly gets to his feet, stretching as he does. He can hear the popping of his back under Dean’s pleased groan.

“I can get him into the tank if you want to go to the bathroom.” Sam steps toward them.

Castiel understands a few of the words, but the meaning is lost to him. He looks up at Dean, waiting for a proper translation. Dean looks between Sam and Castiel and shrugs, pushing an image through the connection of Sam lifting Castiel into the very-small-sea.

_(You okay with that?)_

He is confused by a small swell of disappointment that he scrambles to keep out of the kin-connection. Castiel doesn’t need Dean or Sam to know that he would prefer Dean’s help. As nice as Sam is, Castiel doesn’t trust him nearly as much as he trusts Dean. Not yet. And he still feels bad for hurting Sam. He looks pointedly at the bandages – they’ve been changed since he fell asleep – before meeting Sam’s eyes.

Sam smiles and shrugs. “I’m okay, really.” 

“Are you going to be able to hold him with that arm? He’s kinda heavy.”

Castiel flicks the end of his tail and smacks Dean in the side of his leg. He glares when Dean laughs and slides out of reach.

_(Christ, I’m not calling you fat. By our standards you’re pretty fit up top, but I’d bet my baby that you’re all muscles under those scales. Muscle weighs more than fat, y’know?)_

Dean is grinning, but he’s shifting from side to side, rocking his weight from one foot to the other. Castiel watches him with raised eyebrows. No, he didn’t know that. And he didn’t know that Dean has a baby. And he doesn’t know why Dean can’t hold still.

“Oh just go already. We’ll be fine.”

Dean sags and the kin-connection gets filled with a flood of emotions varying from relief, to gratitude, to adoration. All of it is directed at Sam, but Castiel is the only one who can feel it. As Dean steps over his tail, Castiel tucks his fans in close to keep them from being crushed under Dean’s shoes. He huffs quietly when Dean ruffles his hair while stepping past.

_(I’ll be right back.)_

The kin-connection slackens, falling quiet as Dean leaves the room. Castiel keeps hold of the feeling of Dean’s presence but he doesn’t reach for more. The door makes a high-pitched pulse of noise as it closes. He never knew it made that sound and he wants to know what it is. He could widen the link with Dean again and ask him, but instead he reaches for Sam’s mind.

Sam smiles at the first touch and crouches down next to him. His thoughts are tired and strained. It’s been an eventful week for everyone and it’s taking its toll on Sam. He’s been working every day since they caught him and Castiel knows he hasn’t been making things easy for the humans.

_(Hello Castiel.)_

_(Hello, Sam. Why did the door make a noise?)_ Castiel looks between him and the door.

Sam doesn’t understand the question until Castiel imitates the noise. He laughs as he stands up and walks to the door. The high-pitched pulse sounds again when Sam opens and closes it. Different images start to flood the connection as Sam explains. _(It has an auto-lock feature. There’s a sensor on the other side that we have to move a card over to get in. This lock on the inside-)_ He slides the thin metal bar back and forth over the edge of the door. (- _is to keep people out even if they use their card. That beeping noise is the sound it makes to let us know that the auto-lock is in place. And it beeps when someone swipes their card to let us know someone is coming in.)_

He leaves the metal-bar lock open and comes back to crouch next to him. Castiel is still thinking about the locks. What if there are other doors on the boat that need the card to unlock them? Any escape attempt would be doomed to failure beyond this room. Castiel doesn’t have a card and he’s not sure he would be able to lift himself up enough to reach the sensor.

Castiel sighs and looks away from the door. His eyes catch on Sam’s arm, bent against his knee. _(How is your arm?)_ He reaches out to touch the bandages and hesitates before quickly withdrawing his hand. He feels regret for hurting Sam. _(Was it deep?)_

Sam shrugs and brushes aside the regret with understanding and forgiveness. _(A little. I didn’t need stitches or anything, so that’s good.)_ Sam pauses and smiles at the flash or disgusted horror from Castiel.

The word ‘stitches’ was foreign to Castiel and Sam had provided an image of a needle dipping in and out of skin over ragged cuts to tie the skin together with very thin string. Humans do such weird things that no fin-kin would ever fathom doing. Why tie skin together when you could seal it with snail jelly and bind it in kelp? Sam’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he mirrors Castiel’s disgust when Castiel explains how fin-kin handle deep wounds.

A shudder ripples down Sam’s body and he shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. Castiel can feel through the kin-connection when Sam tries to shove the images out of his head. It’s amusing and Sam makes a face at Castiel’s delight over his reaction. 

His fingers tap a pattern on his legs and he looks from Castiel to the very-small-sea, grasping for a change of subject. _(How do you want to do this? Like how Dean picked you up before?)_ He pushes the memory of Dean standing on the platform with one arm around Castiel’s back and the other under his tail.

Other options flicker up after it. They are images of Castiel with his back to Sam’s chest and Sam’s arms are wrapped around his waist while his tail hangs to the floor. Another is Castiel with his arms around Sam’s shoulders and Sam is holding him around the waist, arms tucked under the bend of his tail at his hips.

 _(Whichever is easiest on your arm.)_ Castiel’s back-fans rustle with his shrug.

Sam chews on his bottom lip for a few moments before he shuffles closer to Castiel’s side. He tucks his hair behind his ears. He chooses the last option and the image of it flares brightly in the kin-connection. Without being asked, Castiel curls his tail under him and lifts enough to wrap his arms around Sam’s shoulders.

He’s warm like Dean, but he smells different. Castiel can smell the salt of his sweat and the subtle metallic scent of blood still lingering on his skin. There are smells that Castiel doesn’t recognize lingering in Sam’s hair and on his clothes. He wonders if they might be Jess’s scents. Beneath everything on the surface there is something deeper, something that is similar to Dean.

Sam grunts when he takes all of Castiel’s weight. He wraps his tail up and around Sam’s waist to keep it out of the way of his legs. The few steps to the moving very-small-sea are wobbly and Castiel tightens his hold, worried that Sam will drop him. His worry is met with a reassuring amusement as Sam staggers up to the glass sides.

The very-small-sea reaches up to Sam’s hips, but it’s not much wider or longer than Dean’s bed. Castiel flips his tail from around his waist and over the edge. The water is cool on his scales, but it’s only a slight comfort. It’s still not the sea. Sam lowers Castiel until most of his tail is in the water. When he lets go, Castiel does too and he drops the rest of the way. Sam jumps back to avoid the splash.

Rather than sink below the rippling waves of this very-small-sea, Castiel twists around onto his side and crosses his arms over the edge of the glass-wall of the long side that faces toward his small-sea. He rests his chin on his forearms and looks up at Sam. He’s smiling at Castiel and their link is vibrating with a curious tinged concern.

_(Does that feel better? Are you hungry?)_

_(It’s nice to be back in the water, thank you.)_ Castiel hesitates in answering the second question. Lilith gave the order to not feed him until he cooperates with her. He doesn’t want Sam or Dean or anyone to get in trouble for giving him food. _(No, I’m fine.)_ His stomach protests, gurgling and empty. He hasn’t had anything to eat since the night before.

Sam’s skepticism bounces back at him and Castiel wants to look away from the frown pinching his face, but he doesn’t. Sam runs a hand through his hair and subtly looks up at the black squares in the corners between the walls and ceiling of the room. Those are the cameras that Dean told Castiel about earlier.

_(We all saved you some of our suppers – even Meg, surprisingly enough. Dean’s going to turn off the lights completely when he goes to bed and give you that. I really hope you can digest our food… It’ll be harder to sneak fish in.)_

_(Thank you, Sam, but that’s not necessary. You’ll get in trouble and I can stand to be hungry for a few days.)_ Castiel feels a surge of gratitude for them and he tries to smile, but he knows it comes out bitter and more like a grimace. He looks away. He doesn’t regret his decision to fight Lilith’s claim, but he does worry over how long he’ll be able to last.

_(Lilith is used to getting what she wants, Castiel. She’ll find ways to tease you with food. I’ve been working for her for a long time and she’s… done some pretty mean things to get her pets to listen to her.)_

Castiel sneers at the term, but his stomach drops and fills with a dread that he hides from the kin-connection when Sam shows him memories of creatures Castiel has never seen before. Great beasts with claws and fangs, covered in thick hair, bleeding and broken and submitting to Lilith. He can taste bile on the back of tongue.

 _(I am a warrior. The colony is in the middle of a war to protect our home and you took me from a field of battle. Lilith does_ not _scare me, Sam.)_

Sam bites his lip. The door beeps and he glances at Dean walking into the room before looking back at Castiel. His face is blank, but the kin-connection is alive with a myriad of worry and fear. _(She should.)_ He turns to Dean. “I’m going to head out. Jess texted and said she had some things to show me.”

Dean smirks and his eyebrows twitch up and down a few times in a leer. “Oh, really?”

Castiel pulls on his connection with Dean, widening it until he can feel his thoughts and not just his mind. Dean’s thoughts are alive with amusement at teasing Sam and Castiel isn’t sure why. It could be a human thing that Castiel doesn’t understand yet and he gently touches at Dean’s mind with his confusion. Dean grins and his eyes move from Sam to Castiel.

Sam groans and covers his hands with his face. “He’s asking what you’re talking about, isn’t he? Oh God, please don’t explain that to him.”

“Why not? He should learn to understand innuendo. It’ll be fun!”

“You’re going to corrupt a fin-kin.”

Dean laughs and his grin is proud and teasing. He’s translating for Castiel even as they speak with their throat-voices. “You don’t mind, do you? I bet you guys have a bunch of interesting innuendos. You’ll have to show me some.”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. Sam explains that an innuendo is an insinuation, a hint at something else. Specifically, Dean is talking about sexual innuendos. Castiel can feel his cheeks heat and he dips his head to hide his face. He doesn’t know of any fin-kin innuendos. That would be something that Gabriel and Balthazar would know better than him.

He looks up again at the sound of Sam smacking Dean on the arm. “Don’t tease him. He’s…” Castiel flares his side-fans to catch the whisper. “He’s a virgin, Dean.”

A bright flash of surprise echoes through the kin-connection with Dean and his eyes go wide. He turns from Sam’s frown to look at him. Castiel winces and ducks again, blushing harder and embarrassed. The link goes suspiciously quiet and Castiel thinks Dean might be hiding his thoughts and emotions from it. When he sneaks a look to check, Dean’s expression is just as blank as the connection.

“Oh.” He shrugs. “That’s cool, I guess. To each their own. Wait.” Dean turns to look at Sam and Castiel draws on his connections with both of them to understand what they’re saying. “How the heck do you know Cas is a virgin?”

“He told me.”

“He _told_ you?”

“Sorta.” Sam shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. He starts shifting from foot to foot and he glances at Castiel. “We were talking about how they mate and he was… well when I pointed out that humans have sex for fun too, instead of for just procreation, I asked if he’s ever done it for fun and he reacted like… kinda like that.” He flaps a hand in his direction and Castiel frowns at it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, well, talk to him about it. Not me.” Sam uses his shoulder to brush Dean out of the way of the door. “Jess is waiting. I’ll see you both tomorrow. Good night, Castiel.”

Castiel raises one hand in a small wave. “Good night, Sam.”

The door beeps when it closes and Dean stands by it for a few moments. Castiel watches him, but Dean isn’t looking at him. He runs his hand through his hair – a nervous habit that the brothers share – before going to the drawers where his clothing is stored. Dean doesn’t say anything as he takes out his sleep clothes. He still hasn’t said anything by the time he kicks off his shoes and starts undoing his jeans.

_(Dean?)_

He doesn’t look up. _(Yeah?)_

_(Is everything okay?)_

_(It’s fine, Cas.)_

Dean still isn’t looking at him and the link between them is still devoid of his emotions. Castiel doesn’t like it and he can feel anxiety curling tight in his chest. Did he do something to make Dean unhappy? Was Dean mad at him for falling asleep on him? Castiel knows Dean has a thing about touching, but Dean had been the first to touch him and he hadn’t said anything about it when Castiel had finished crying. He hadn’t let go and had held Castiel until he fell asleep. Is Dean uncomfortable because Castiel is a virgin?

He is in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head when Dean pauses. The kin-connection explodes with a flurry of thoughts and emotions that rush to sooth the wavering edges of Castiel’s mind. Dean isn’t uncomfortable and he’s not unhappy with Castiel. But he is mad. He is _furious_ and even though it isn’t directed at him, Castiel shrinks away from it.

Dean throws his shirt down on his bed and his fingers curl into trembling fists at his sides. He still doesn’t look at Castiel and his shoulders hunch against the storm of anger flashing through his mind. Castiel can feel strands of pity swirling among the mess. He doesn’t understand why Dean would pity him, or why Dean is upset on his behalf.

Castiel flinches when Dean smashes his fist into the side of his drawers. It tilts onto one edge and despite the pain that spikes through the rage, Dean is quick to right it before it falls over. He’s saying the harsh, dark words that Castiel doesn’t know but he thinks might be profane exclamations like when Balthazar or Gabriel would swear.

It’s Castiel’s turn to reach out and soothe the turbulent sea of Dean’s mind. For a brief moment he wishes he could wrap Dean in his arms and tail again to make him feel as safe as he had made Castiel feel. He still doesn’t know what is making Dean so angry.

 _(Lilith is!)_ Dean’s thoughts crackle with hatred. _(You’re not an animal and she’s keeping you locked up in here like one. And when she gets home, she’s just got a bigger, fancier cage for you and it’s just not fucking_ fair _, Cas! You’ve never even – and if we can’t figure out how to get you out, you won’t ever and that’s just –)_ Dean makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and he rubs his hands through his hair harshly. _(There’s no way I’m letting you die a virgin, Cas.)_

It takes several seconds for Castiel to parse the reason Dean is actually angry and it almost makes him laugh. _(Dean, you’re being ridiculous.)_

He looks up at him sharply. _(I am not!)_

_(Yes, you are. You’re upset that I haven’t experienced the pleasures of the flesh and you’re worried I never will.)_

Dean presses his lips together in a thin line and he looks away. His anger abates minimally to be replaced with embarrassed annoyance.  _(Yeah, well, sex is awesome. Everyone should get to experience it at least once and it’s a damn_ shame _that you haven’t.)_

He rolls his shoulders and glances back at Castiel. His ears are turning red around the edges. _(How come you’ve never done it? Are you too young? Or… uh, do fin-kin think you’re, y’know, not attractive or something? I mean, by our standards – if we can get past all the fans, the gills, and those crazy teeth of yours – you’re not bad to look at.)_

Castiel frowns and looks at the floor, his chin on his forearms again. He huffs a heavy sigh through his nose. _(Do you want me to answer in order?)_

 _(If you want to.)_ Dean is contrite and he’s toying with the edge of his blanket when Castiel looks up again. _(You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.)_

He pulls on his sleep shirt and busies himself with smoothing the wrinkles out of it over his chest. Castiel watches the movement  of his hands and he carefully doesn’t wonder what it would feel like if it was his hands. He flexes his fingers distractedly and chews lightly at his bottom lip, adverting his gaze when Dean looks up again.

 _(I’m not young. I’ve been an adult for many seasons. And no, I am not considered unattractive.)_ He drags his finger tip along the edge of the glass. _(My nest-brothers thought I was weird for not showing any interest in finding a mate. I was more focused on being a better warrior than fathering a nest.)_

Dean laughs and Castiel can hear the rustling of the bed covers as he folds them back. _(There’s more to sex than doing it just to make kids, y’know?)_

 _(I am aware. Sam was very thorough in his explanation. And it was a very… enlightening... conversation.)_ Castiel steals a quick glance up to find Dean pulling the case for his guitar out from under his bed. He pulls himself higher against the glass wall, leaning over the edge eagerly. _(Are you going to play music again?)_

 _(Yeah, I was planning on it. Don’t try to change the subject.)_ He glances over his shoulder, smirking and raises one eyebrow. _(What was so enlightening about your talk with Sammy?)_

Castiel frowns and the spines of his fans flex slightly in agitation. He can feel the blush warming his skin again and he hates it and wishes he could stop it. He looks away and rubs at the back of his neck. He hasn’t told anyone that he thinks he’s only attracted to males. Although there really isn’t anyone for him to tell. And it’s not like he’s had a chance to put his theory to test. His imagination can’t possibly be enough to make a sound conclusion.

 _(Cas?)_ Dean is settling against the wall with the guitar in his lap again. There’s concern and understanding flickering through the kin-connection. _(You know you don’t have to answer all my questions. I’m a nosy bastard. You can tell me to fuck off whenever you’re not comfortable with anything.)_ To accentuate his point, Dean flicks his fingers over the strings and the sound makes the air vibrate.

He is momentarily distracted by the bend and drag of Dean’s fingers along the strings as he plays a few notes before adjusting the little round pegs at the end of the flat piece. _(I’m not… Dean, I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t know how to talk about it.)_

_(Talk about what?)_

Castiel dregs up the memories of his talk with Sam, trying to remember all the words and terms. _(Sam said you’re… bisexual? Is that the right term? The one where you like both males and females.)_

Dean’s fingers pause over the strings before he continues. _(Yeah. I’m an equal opportunity lover. There’s not much point in ignoring half the population when it feels good no matter who I touch. And each gender has their perks. Why?)_

_(And the term for liking only one gender?)_

_(Depends on the gender. If it’s the same gender, it’s homosexual. If it’s the opposite gender, it’s heterosexual. There’s a ton of other terms that can get way more complicated, but those are the basics, I guess. I’m not going to pretend I know a whole lot about –)_ Dean suddenly stops and their connection sparks with his surprise. He looks toward Castiel with wide eyes and Castiel can feel the flush spread over his gills. _(Cas, are you saying what I think you’re saying?)_

Castiel presses his face against his arms so he doesn’t have to see Dean’s reaction. He can still feel it, pulsing with bright surprise and confusion and ringing with sympathy.

_(Dude, I’m the last person you have to be embarrassed about this with.)_

_(I’m not embarrassed.)_

_(You’re kinda looking like you are.)_

_(I’m not. I just… Dean, I don’t_ know _.)_ He copies Dean’s movements and runs his hands through his hair. It’s thick and heavy and coarse with salt. His fingers and webbing come away gritty and he rubs his hands together to get it off. _(I have no practical experience to determine whether or not I find males more attractive than females. I… I did think about it after my conversation with Sam and I realized that I’ve never thought of any of the colony females like that. And I tried thinking about one, and I had no reaction. Then I…)_ He shifts, curling his tail tightly underneath him and leaving half the very-small-sea empty. _(Then I thought about a male and… I was aroused.)_

Dean taps his fingers on the wide, hollow base of the guitar. _(So what’s the big deal? It just sounds like you like guys better than girls and there’s nothing wrong with that.)_

Castiel bares his teeth, annoyed with Dean’s cavalier attitude. _(The ‘big deal’ is that I’ve never heard of any fin-kin being attracted to the same gender. For all I know, I could be the only one in my colony. So even if I do manage to ever return home, there is still the very real possibility that there won’t be any males willing to mate with me and I might not find myself aroused enough to be able to mate with a female.)_

His irritation seeps through the kin-connection, brushing over Dean’s mind. Dean frowns and his hands still over the guitar. _(Yeah, okay. I can see how that could be a big deal. And stop saying ‘if’. You_ are _going to get home so it’s just a matter of ‘when’.)_

He feels a rush of gratitude. Dean is so full of conviction that Castiel almost wants to believe that he and Sam really will be able to save him. _(Good. So you understand that you were being ridiculous?)_

Dean quirks a smile. _(I never said that. It’s still a crying shame that you haven’t tried anything yet. And who knows, maybe when you get back things will be different. For one, you actually know about it now so maybe when you get back you might notice things you didn’t before. There’s still the chance that you’ll find someone like you. Tell me you’ve at least kissed someone before, haven’t you?)_

_(I don’t see how that’s relevant.)_

_(It totally is. Unless they’ve got stubble, when you close your eyes you can’t really tell  if you’re kissing a girl or a guy. So even if you don’t ever end up having sex, you could at least make out with someone. You’ll just have to… try not to touch their bodies, or something.)_

_(I don’t understand what’s so great about kissing.)_ Castiel rubs his hands over his face and tries not to roll his eyes at Dean’s optimism. _(I think it would just be easier to never do anything and devote myself to the protection of the colony.)_

 _(That’s bullshit.)_ Dean feeds his own frustration through the link to push back against Castiel’s irritation.

The guitar makes a heavy twanging noise when Dean puts it aside. Castiel lowers his hands and tilts his head when Dean slides off the bed. His steps are sure and steady as he comes over to the very-small-sea, but his thoughts are tense with worry and they thrum with anticipation. Castiel doesn’t know what he’s worried about and he tips his head back to look up at him when Dean steps right up to the glass-wall.

_(Dean?)_

He knows what Dean is going to do the moment his fingers ghost over the line of his jaw. Castiel’s fans flare in surprise and he grips the glass wall tight enough that his knuckles go white. Dean leans down, but stops barely a finger-width away. He can feel Dean’s breath on his face and smell the sharp tang of something on the warm air. There’s a silent question in Dean’s eyes and through the kin-connection. Dean is waiting for Castiel to decide.

Castiel doesn’t pull away.

He doesn’t close his eyes even though Dean does as he presses his lips to Castiel’s. A small shocked noise escapes him, muffled against Dean’s mouth. It’s a light, gentle touch to start and Dean’s lips are as soft as when Castiel had touched them yesterday. Castiel doesn’t move and he barely breathes. Dean’s fingertips press under his chin and tilt his head back just a little bit more and the kiss becomes more firm against Castiel’s lips.

Another noise gets stifled against Dean’s mouth when Castiel feels the soft touch of a tongue over his bottom lip. It’s another noise of surprise, but it sounds a lot like a moan and it scares Castiel more than what Dean is doing. In fact, he’s not scared at all by what Dean is doing. He’s stunned, but he isn’t scared.

There’s a heat blossoming in his belly and he doesn’t notice that he’s coiling his tail and pushing up into the kiss and his eyes are slipping closed until he has to open them again because Dean is _moving_ _away_. He takes another sound from Castiel and he’s horrified when he realizes that it sounds an awful lot like a disappointed whine.

Dean is smiling when he steps away. _(There. Now you’ve been kissed. Bet’cha don’t think it’s not so great anymore, huh?)_

Castiel brings his hand up and presses his fingers to his lips. He’s staring at Dean with wide eyes and he’s not sure what he should do or think. Part of him wants to be furious at Dean for taking his first kiss without asking. Another part of him wants to grab the front of Dean’s shirt and drag him back down for a second. A third part is terrified because Dean has shown him something he’s been missing and it’s a something that he might never have again.

_(Why did you do that?)_

The smile slips slightly from Dean’s face and his fingers curl in the edge of his shirt. Castiel watches him lick his lips and he can remember the feel of that tongue touching the edges of his mouth. It makes the heat in his belly flare. _(You said you didn’t have any experience and that you’ve never been kissed. I figured, what could it hurt? Showing you how nice kisses are, that is. So maybe when you get home, you’ll at least want to have those.)_

There’s a twinge of pain in Castiel’s chest and he doesn’t quite understand why. He knows it’s partly because Dean only kissed him for technical reasons and it’s not how Castiel wanted to be kissed. It’s not that he was wanting to kiss Dean, but he wanted his first kiss to be more special than this. He wanted it to mean something with someone important to him. Dean took it without asking and it means _nothing_ to him beyond proving a point.

He gives way to his anger and Dean flinches at the wave of it that crashes through the kin-connection. _(You shouldn’t have done that.)_

Before he severs the link, Castiel shoves through the reasons he’s upset. He wants Dean to know that he is hurt by what he has done. Dean’s eyebrows come together and he frowns. He can feel Dean trying to sort through Castiel’s feelings and make sense of the tumble of emotions and thoughts Castiel forced on him.

With another brutal flick of displeasure, Castiel cuts the connection and he takes satisfaction in seeing Dean flinch again. Dean takes a step toward the very-small-sea, his mouth open.

“Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –”

Castiel cuts him off with a snarl and Dean immediately takes a step back. He pushes away from the wall and sinks under the water where he won’t be able to hear Dean’s voice. The first rush of water through his gills chokes him before his lungs fill and he can breathe normally. He turns onto his side, facing the computers so he won’t have to see Dean either. He curls his tail up until he can tuck the end under his neck, folding his fans into a soft pile. He spread the fans along the length of his tail over his shoulder, shielding himself from Dean and any other humans who could come in.

It’s a few minutes before the lights go out and the room is dark. The return of Castiel’s natural-glow helps calm him slightly. But he’s still angry and he doesn’t know when or if he’ll be able to forgive Dean for this.

x

Castiel isn’t sure how long he was curled up before he fell asleep, but he jerks awake to a loud rumbling roar that makes the very-small-sea quake. The vibrations in the water are disorienting and Castiel smacks his tail and back against the walls in the tight confines as he uncurls and struggles to untangle himself and sit up to see what monster could possibly make such a noise.

He sits up, reaching for the edge of the glass-wall while he flails out with his mind, reaching for Dean. A hand closes over his wrist and pulls, dragging him up and out of the water. Castiel fights against it for the few seconds it takes him to realize that the hand belongs to Dean and he’s pulling Castiel against his chest again as he coughs the water from his lungs.

One of his arms is closed around Castiel’s back and his hand is under his opposite arm, fingers warm against his ribs. The other is still firmly holding his wrist. Some far off part of him notes that Dean isn’t wearing a shirt.

When he grasps at Dean’s mind, he’s nearly smothered by his thoughts. Dean is anxious to apologize, he’s concerned by Castiel’s reactions both last night and right now, and he’s worried that Castiel will hurt himself if he keeps flailing. Castiel leans heavily against his chest and tries to take deep calming breaths through the coughing. The noise that woke him is louder and more grating out of the water.

_(What is making that sound?)_

_(It’s the pump.)_ Dean steps to the side so Castiel can see what’s happening in the room.

Bobby is standing on the platform and is putting the biggest worm Castiel has ever seen into the small-sea. Dean laughs into his hair and corrects him. It’s not a worm, it’s a ‘hose’. It is attached to a machine that has another hose that goes into the wall under the table where a very small door has opened.

Dean explains that the latch covers a hole that is connected to a tube. Castiel doesn’t want him to go into further detail beyond that the machine making the roaring noise sucks the water through the hose Bobby is holding, and sends it out through the hose that goes into the wall. The wall-hole leads outside the boat where it will be put back in the ocean. 

_(I asked Bobby to bring this in. We’re draining the tank so we can give it a scrub down and fill it with fresh water.)_

Castiel is confused and he twists so he can look up at Dean. _(Why?)_

 _(Because you didn’t like the water anymore. If I have to put you back in that cage, I’m going to make sure you’re at least somewhat comfortable. You don’t want to stay in this cramped tank, do you?)_ He gestures to the very-small-sea and almost loses his hold on Castiel.

He pulls away from Dean, bunching his tail beneath him to keep above water until he has the room to hooks his arms over the edge of the glass wall again. Dean steps away and he puts his hands in the pockets of his pants. They’re not jeans today. It’s a looser, grey fabric that hangs on his hips and Castiel thinks it’s held in place by the white string tied in a knot over Dean’s stomach.

Castiel knows Dean is waiting to find out if he’s still mad at him. And a small part of him is. But now that the adrenaline from his rude awakening is wearing off, Castiel feels very apathetic. He thinks even if he does go back into the small-sea today, he would probably spend the day stretched out on the floor. It’s been seven days that he’s been trapped here and so much has happened.

He’s gone through so many different emotions in the last day alone that he’s not sure he actually has the capacity to feel much more of anything today. And Castiel isn’t even taking into account how hungry he is. The unpleasant acidic tickle low in his throat is annoying and he doesn’t have the energy to be bothered by much else. He wonders if tomorrow will be the same.

Dean is still waiting for Castiel to answer. He’s looking more and more worried with each passing moment and Castiel grants him a small mercy. _(The small-sea is much more preferable to this. Thank you, Dean. I appreciate your efforts.)_

He’s answered with a bright smile that quickly fades when Castiel doesn’t return it. He knows Dean can feel the lack of emotions from him through their link. It’s not the same as when they purposefully hold back on sharing their thoughts. When they do that, there is an obvious absence. Right now, Dean can sense that Castiel simply doesn’t care about anything right now, and it brings up a curl of confusion and worry that slides hesitantly through the kin-connection.

Castiel shrugs and rests his cheek on his arms. _(I haven’t forgiven you. But I’m not mad at you anymore.)_

_(Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. It was just a kiss and I –)_

He sighs and turns onto the other cheek so he can see Dean and the clear confusion on his face. _(That’s the problem, Dean. To you, it was just another kiss. To me, it was my first and it was a taste of something I might never have again. Put yourself in my place and tell me that you wouldn’t be angered by that.)_

_(Yeah, okay. I can see how that sucks. But it’s not like you stopped me or anything. I gave you plenty of time to pull away and you even kissed back. But I get it, I should have actually asked first, right?)_

Something tightens in Castiel’s chest, pressing hard against his sternum. _(That isn’t my point. You shouldn’t have thought it at all. You’re not fin-kin and I’m not human. We’re different species, Dean. Just because we have similar characteristics doesn’t mean that it’s alright for you to kiss me even if you asked first. And that’s not even touching upon the fact that I’m your_ prisoner _.)_

A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth. _(You’re not my prisoner, you’re Lilith’s. And I’m just as trapped here as you are.  I get to go outside this room? Big deal. Sam and I are doing everything we can to find a way to get you out of this place. But once we get you out, we’re still going to be stuck on this boat. We’re still going to get the shit kicked out of us for going against Lilith’s orders. And if we’re lucky, she won’t kill us and toss our bodies to the sharks and write it off as an accident.)_

He leans down until he’s eye level with Castiel. _(And If I start thinking of you as a different species, we’re going to have a lot of trouble. Up here, a species that isn’t human means you’re an animal and I think you’re too fucking smart and too fucking_ human _for that to even to be an option. I don’t give a shit that you have fishy-bits. You’re human enough for me to care about you and want to help you.)_

Castiel tries to cut in, but Dean bats his thoughts aside and continues on. His emotions are a rolling mess that Castiel can barely sift through fast enough to understand them. _(I get that kissing you wasn’t the best thing, or the right thing, to do – even without asking you first. But if I had a do-over, I’d probably do it again because that’s just the kind of asshole I am. So I’m sorry I didn’t ask to kiss you. I’m sorry your first kiss was with a douche-bag human. I’m sorry you think you won’t find a fin-kin dude to kiss you again when you get home. And even though it means I wouldn’t have ever met you, I wish we hadn’t captured you in the first place.)_

He straightens and turns. Castiel catches his wrist to keep him from walking away and then stares at where is fingers are touching Dean. He didn’t have the intention of stopping him and he’s not entirely sure why he did. He looks up and sees Dean’s face is clouded. His lips are pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are drawn together in a tight frown. The kin-connection is singing with Dean’s emotions. They’re all over the place and Castiel needs more time to work through them and figure out why, in the cluster of anger and annoyance, he can feel tiny tendrils of hurt.

 _(All I have for you are my apologies and I know that’s not nearly enough, but I gave you the chance to stop the kiss. You knew what I was gonna do. You’re not naïve enough to think that wasn’t my intention, and you let me do it anyway. And you_ kissed back _. So you can keep your forgiveness, Cas. I don’t want it.)_

“Dean.”

They both turn to look at Bobby. He’s moved from the platform to the end of the very-small-sea closest to the pump. He’s looking between Dean and Castiel and then pointedly at where Castiel is still holding Dean’s wrist. He lets go hastily and Dean steps out of his reach.

Castiel huffs at the distance between them, but he keeps his eyes on Bobby. “Hello, Bobby. Thank you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “For what?”

Dean actually crooks a small smile and over the wash of his ire there is a small flash of pleased pride in Castiel for remembering. ”He’s saying thanks for the fish.”

“Oh. Yer welcome, I guess. Not much thanks necessary now that Lilith’s got you on a diet. Anyway, the tank’ll be empty in twenty. I’m going to get some coffee. You want any?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll take it black.”

Bobby nods and he walks past them to the door. “You two idjits might want to leave your lovers’ spat off the cameras. Lilith isn’t going to like that you’re keeping cozy with her prize pet.”

Dean flushes red and Castiel is blind-sided by the burst of embarrassment that swallows the connection. “We’re not – I’m not – He’s not –”

The door closes behind Bobby before Dean can finish his start-stopping words. Castiel is watching him closely when Dean growls and kicks at the base of the small-sea. He grunts and hisses a string of swear swords before walking with a funny gait to his bed and falling down face-first.

It is several long minutes before Dean says anything. His thoughts are muted, toned down with a sulking quality. _(Did you at least like it? I mean, if it was from a fin-kin, would you have liked it better?)_

Now Castiel understands the hurt that Dean was feeling earlier and it almost makes him laugh. _(My reactions have hurt your ego.)_

 _(No, they haven’t!)_ It’s a lie and Dean must know that Castiel can sense the falsehood through the link. _(I don’t care about it or anything. I’m a fucking awesome kisser. I’m just… wondering… if you take away everything else that pissed you off about it last night… Was it, y’know, any good?)_

_(You want to know if I enjoyed it.)_

_(Well, you did kiss back.)_

_(Yes, that does seem to be something you’re stuck on.)_

He’s amused, but frustrated with Castiel and it’s an interesting combination. Castiel can feel the edge of a smile tug at his own lips. Dean groans and pulls his pillow over his head. _(No, fuck this. I don’t care anymore. You can keep your fin-kin weirdness and I won’t try and kiss you again and we can just forget this whole thing happened.)_

_(No, I don’t think so.)_

_(You don’t think what?)_

He absently runs his fingers over the dry webbing of his side-fans, feeling the difference from when it’s wet. _(I don’t think I’m going to forget this happened. As you said, if we take away everything else… It was nice and I did enjoy it while it was happening. I could have stopped you, but I didn’t and I’m not entirely sure why.)_

There’s a swell of pride pushing up at the edges of Dean’s mind and Castiel is amused by Dean’s attempts to reel it back. He’s clearly not trying very hard.

The door beeps as it’s unlocked and Castiel looks over. Dean pulls the pillow off his head and sits up, smiling when Sam and Jess come in. The smile quickly drops and Castiel feels his own twist of anxiety mirrored through the connection from Dean. Neither of them are wearing their white coats.

“Guys, what’s wrong?” Dean is on his feet the moment he sees their wide-eyed and fearful  expressions.

“What did you _do,_ Dean?” Sam hisses, gesturing at Jess. It’s a vague movement of his hand to Castiel, but Jess must be able to read it just fine because she immediately turns and slides the metal-lock over the door’s edge.

Dean’s unconsciously translating for Castiel, but they’re both confused by Sam’s question. “What are you talking about?”

Jess brushes past Sam and Dean and she has a hard black shell full of papers in her arms. She puts it in a drawer under the ledge. “Lilith is on the warpath. We could hear her screaming at Alistair from our bunk. We heard your name. A lot.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“She was shouting about Castiel too.” Jess puts her hand on Castiel’s shoulder and he looks up at her, just as confused as Dean is.

Dean shrugs. “I have no idea. What, is she pissed about how he tried to escape?”

“No, she thought that was amusing. She even said so when she stopped in at the infirmary while I was getting this checked.” Sam holds his arm up. “Whatever she’s raging about now, it happened after that.”

“But nothing happened!”

Castiel doesn’t like the sinking feeling plunging through his chest and making his insides turn cold. He grabs Dean’s attention through the kin-connection. _(Dean. You kissed me.)_

Dean goes very, very still and an interesting mix of horror and disbelief and self-loathing fills the link. He looks to Castiel with wide eyes before looking up at the cameras in the corners of the room. “Oh fuck.”

“Goddammit, Dean.” Sam grabs his shoulder and turns Dean to him forcefully. “What did you do?”

His voice is very small, and very quiet. “I kissed Cas.”

“You – you _what_?”

Castiel clears his throat and three sets of eyes look down at him. “Dean kiss Castiel.”

“You kissed – he kissed – Dean, _why?!_ ”

Dean pulls away and runs a hand through his hair. “He’s never been kissed before and he was talking like he was never – it’s not important, Sammy. It’s nothing to freak out about.”

“Good kiss.” Castiel murmurs. Jess actually giggles and Dean brushes pleased gratitude into the kin-connection.

“Dean, do you have any idea what kind of shit storm you’ve kicked up? Jesus Christ, you fucking _idiot_.” Sam groans, fisting both his hands in his hair and making it stick out in strange puffs. “Lilith is going to skin you alive. She’s going to think you’re getting attached to him and you’re going to try and help him escape.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest defensively. Castiel raises his eyebrows when Dean points out with clear images that his next words are nothing but lies for the cameras. “I’m not getting attached to him, Sam. He belongs to Lilith and I’m not stupid enough to try and get my hands on any of her things.” Castiel bristles, his fans flaring at the words. He knows these aren’t Dean’s true feelings, but he doesn’t like them anyway. “It was a _pity kiss_ because the poor fish-man’s never been kissed before and I figured why not have his first kiss be me? You know my reputation. I’m _damn_ good.”

Sam is staring at Dean with his mouth hanging open. Castiel remedies his stunned disbelief by touching his mind and informing him of Dean’s charade for the cameras. Before he can think of maybe doing the same to Jess, she steps forward and her hand makes a loud clap when she smacks it hard across Dean’s cheek.

Castiel’s spines spread and he hisses. Dean winces and rubs at his cheek, frowning at Jess. Sam quickly explains to Castiel, before he can get more angry at her, that Jess is playing along for the cameras just like they are. She’s smart and she knows Dean better than this. Castiel isn’t as sure as he is, if the words being translated are anything to go by.

“I can’t believe you, Dean! Castiel is a _person_ and you’re treating him like an animal! You’re… you’re just as bad as Alistair. I can’t even look at you right now.” Jess turns away and returns to the ledge where she starts reorganizing the papers spread out across the surface with jerking, angry movements.

“I think this is possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Sam groans, rubbing his hands over his face. He opens his mouth to say more, and Dean is about to retaliate with a list of stupid things Sam has done – some of which Castiel knows about, like Ruby, and some of which are completely foreign to him – but the door beeps and rattles against the metal-lock.

It’s immediately followed with the sound of heavy banging. Sam looks back at Dean and Castiel with wide eyes for a brief moment before he slips the lock off and opens the door. Lilith is there and standing behind her are Alistair and Gordon and another male Castiel doesn’t know.

“Sam. Jessica.” Lilith pushes into the room and the look she fixes Dean with sends chills all the way down to the tip of Castiel’s tail. Her voice drops low and dangerous. “ _Dean._ ” Without looking away, she gestures at Sam and Jess. “You two. Leave.”

“Lilith –” It’s all Sam gets out before the cold look is turned to him.

“Now.”

Jess doesn’t wait for her to tell them again. She gives Castiel a squeeze on the shoulder and an apologetic look before she’s pushing a protesting Sam out the door. Dean’s fingers are flexing into fists at his sides and Castiel is having trouble breathing around the sudden lump in his throat. The kin-connection is teeming with a sick kind of anticipation as Dean’s eyes track Alistair, Gordon and this new-male when they enter the room.

A cold dread fills them both when the new-male shuts the door and slides the metal-lock into place. He remains there, but Alistair and Gordon move to opposite ends of the very-small-sea. Castiel draws back enough that he can see them both on the edges of his vision while keeping his eyes on Dean and Lilith.

“Do you know why I’m here, Dean?” Lilith steps closer to Dean, too close. She has to tilt her head back to keep her eyes on his.

“Yes.”

“Then you also know why I’m unhappy.”

“I do.”

“Do you have an explanation, Dean?”

“Yes.” And Dean explains, using a brief repeat of his false conversation with Sam and Jess. It ends with another slap across the face and he grunts but doesn’t move to touch his cheek like before. “Yeah, Jess did the same too.”

“For an entirely different reason, I’m sure.” Lilith points at Dean’s bed. “Lay down.”

Dean hesitates. The kin-connection trembles with Castiel’s confusion and Dean’s trepidation. He’s trying hard not to look to Castiel to reassure him that everything is fine. Humans communicate so much through physical signals and Castiel can understand that Dean is finding it difficult not to use the ingrained reactions he’s used his whole life. Instead, he tries to comfort Castiel through the kin-connection, despite how he’s coiled tight and ready for a fight.

“I don’t really feel comfortable with doing that.”

“I don’t care. Either lay down or you can leave the room until we’re done here.”

“Done with what?”

“Lay down or leave. Decide now, Dean.”

Dean’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Lilith. He steps backward until the edge of the bed presses into the backs of his knees. Castiel flinches when Lilith speaks again in sharp, clipped words. “On your stomach with your hands behind your back.”

His discomfort with the situation twists through the kin-connection and makes Castiel’s empty stomach turn. He hisses and flares his fans, his grip on the wall tightening. Castiel doesn’t like the submissive position she’s telling Dean to take.

She holds out a hand to the new-male. “Kubrick.” He steps away from the door and hands a length of rope to Lilith.

“Don’t you touch him.” Dean’s voice drops low and it sends an entirely different kind of chill down Castiel’s spine. His eyes are hard and dark and if Castiel didn’t know that Dean is trying to protect him, he might be frightened of him. “Don’t you fucking touch him.”

“This is for you. Hands behind your back and on your stomach. I want to make sure you don’t interfere.” She puts her hand on his shoulder and Dean turns around slowly until he can cross his wrists behind his back.

“No!” Castiel growls, pushing himself up so he can lean over the edge of the wall. The position threatens to tip him over and out across the floor at any moment. “No touch Dean!”

Lilith turns her cold eyes to him. “Alistair. Gordon.”

They move quick and Castiel snarls when they each grab an arm. He’s pulled roughly over the edge of the very-small-sea and the air is pushed from his lungs when they slam him against the floor. Castiel hears Dean shout for him and he’s not sure if it’s through the kin-connection or with his throat-voice.

A heavy weight settles across his shoulders and he can’t tell for sure, but he’s almost certain only one person is holding down his arms now. Another settles over his hips and another on his tail. Castiel writhes. It’s hard to breathe with the weight across his upper back. The floor is cold against his cheek and chest.

Castiel is reminded of yesterday when he was pinned by Dean. This is worse. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do to him. His back is open to any form of attack and Dean’s panic is flaring bright and painful through the kin-connection. Castiel can’t see what’s happening to Dean, but he’s shouting the harsh words at the ones holding him down.

 _(Dean!)_ He doesn’t know what they’re going to do and he can feel the all too familiar anxiety flood through his chest and squeeze until it’s too hard to breathe. It pulses bright and hot and doubles back at him through the kin-connection, mixed with Dean’s anger.

It’s only a moment before Dean snaps off that part of their link. _(You don’t need to feel mine too, Cas. But you need to calm down and let them do what they came here to do. Whatever Lilith is planning, it probably won’t take long and I swear to God if they hurt you I’ll throw them all of this fucking boat.)_

Castiel squirms. He can hear the sharp click of Lilith’s shoes as she approaches. They come into sight and Lilith kneels by Castiel’s head. “Gordon, move.”

The weight across his shoulders shifts until it’s further down, closer to his waist. Lilith grabs a handful of Castiel’s hair and he hisses at the sting of it when she tugs up and to the side. He twists in an attempt to lessen the strain on his neck, managing to lift one shoulder off the floor. She wants him to look up at her and her smile is cold and cruel.

“Hello, Castiel.” He spits her name back at her and it only makes her smile grow wider. “Yes, good. You know your master’s name. You need to remember that I _own_ you. Dean is only here to make sure you listen until we get home. After that, I’ll be able to train your properly and you’ll never see him again. Do you understand that?”

Dean is still translating. Yes, he understands. Dean has several responses and all of them are flashing bright and quick through the kin-connection. He’s not expecting Castiel to pick one and his surprise and pride breaks through the emotion-barrier before he can stop it.

Castiel twists more and he can feel the burn in his muscles as they stretch. He finds Lilith’s eyes and he smiles back at her. The hand in his hair relaxes slightly until he says the response he picked.

“Fuck you, Lilith.”

There’s one sharp intake of air down by his tail and two quickly muffled snorts of laughter. Lilith’s smile twists into a sneer and Castiel can’t stop the grunt of pain when she shoves his head down sharply, the floor cracking hard against his cheek and side-fan. 

“Dean is a very bad influence on you. I see that it’s going to take a lot of training to work him out of your system. But you’ll learn, Castiel. I’ve never had a pet I haven’t been able to break.” She stands and Gordon’s weight moves back to his shoulders.

Castiel can’t see what’s happening and he starts to struggle again. Kubrick, Alistair and Gordon are heavier than Dean, Jess and Meg were. It’s harder to move and it’s harder to breathe. His chest is too tight and it feels like millions of krill are prickling under his skin. He knows this feeling. It’s the foreboding sense that something is about to happen and Castiel isn’t going to like it.

“What the hell is tha – No, Lilith, no! Don’t!” The anger and the fear in Dean’s voice makes Castiel feel like his heart has stopped beating in his chest. He almost forgets to breathe. “Don’t use that! Please, Lilith, don’t!”

 _(Dean!)_ He can’t see what Lilith is about to do. He doesn’t know if she’s moved closer to Dean or what she has that is making Dean sound so scared. Castiel presses hard on the kin-connection, reaching for the images Dean is seeing. He wants to know, he _needs_ to know that Dean is going to be okay. If Lilith hurts him, Castiel promises on mother-sea that he will _end_ her.

He flinches when a set of too warm hands close over his flattened back-fans. Castiel hisses and squirms in discomfort as they are pulled apart and the folded webbing is pushed away. The air is cold on the space over his spine.

Castiel can feel the trembling start in his arms and work it’s way down through his tail. His fans are rippling where they aren’t pinned to the floor. Something small and cold and hard presses against his back in the space cleared. It’s a little to the left of his spine and Castiel tenses at the touch of it. Dean isn’t the one in danger here, it’s him.

_(Cas, don’t tense up. Relax your muscles right the fuck now or this is going to hurt way more than it needs to. I’m sorry, Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry. I had no idea she’d do this, I really didn’t.)_

He can’t relax. He tries, but there’s a soft click that he can barely hear over of the constant churn of the pump and then there is _pain._ A rush of sharp zigzagging bolts that arc up and down his spine and makes Castiel’s body spasm. His scream is brief and ends in a choked off gasp as he struggles to breathe through it.

Dean’s thoughts are nothing more than a string of apologies, Castiel’s name, and dark predictions of what he’s going to do to the ones holding Castiel down. He’s tugging at Castiel’s mind, and he can feel Dean trying to take hold of the throb of pain pulsing through his body. Dean wants to take it into himself and spare Castiel this feeling. But the kin-connection doesn’t work like that. He can’t take something that is physically affecting him.

“Let him up.”

“You sure? You saw what he did Sam.”

“He knows better. Besides, I have a present for him.”

The weights move and Castiel immediately curls up, wrapping his arms around his chest and twisting his tail so that his fans can cover his head and shoulders. He’s whimpering from the pain that still twinges along his spine and he can feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He’s cold and shaking and his back burns where the hard thing was pressed.

 _(Cas, man, listen to me, please. Don’t attack. Don’t do anything. Gordon has a dart-gun and he’ll knock you out and I know they’ve got more tests they want to run that’ll be easier if you’re out. Lilith is going to touch you and you need to_ not react _, okay?)_

He flinches when hands touch his scales, but he doesn’t react beyond that. Just like Dean told him to, Castiel does nothing. He doesn’t open his eyes to see who is touching him and pulling his tail away.

“Sit up, Castiel.” Lilith’s voice is calm, soft and gentle, and it scares Castiel more than when she was cold and cruel.

He stops hugging himself long enough to push up and draw his tail to his chest. He folds his arms around it and presses his face into his scales. His cheek is throbbing and Castiel is sure it’s going to bruise. His arms won’t stop shaking and his back _hurts_.

There are soft touches in his hair, but the hands aren’t Dean’s. They don’t feel anything like Dean’s and he doesn’t like it. He wants them to stop touching him. Lilith is cooing nonsense words about Castiel being a good boy and Dean is _seething_. Something cold and rough slips around Castiel’s neck and he jerks back in surprise.

A weight is resting on his collarbone and the back of his neck and there’s another quiet click before Lilith steps away, smiling so smugly Castiel wants to lean forward and claw it from her face. Instead he reaches up to touch what’s circled around his neck. It’s hanging just below his gills. Castiel doesn’t know what he’s touching, but he can feel a cool disk of metal laying in the hollow of his throat.

 _(It’s a collar, Cas. She fucking_ collared _you.)_ Dean is disgusted with the image he throws through the kin-connection and Castiel feels like he’s going to be sick when Dean shows him the tightly braided blue rope and the pendant hanging from it.

“It matches your colours nicely. You look lovely, Castiel.” Lilith drags her touch over the collar.

Castiel has to fight the urge to snap at her. He doesn’t know what she did to his back, but he doesn’t want it to happen again. He settles for glaring at her and it only makes her laugh. She cups his face in her hands and rubs her thumbs against the two days worth of stubble. Castiel tries to pull back when she leans in closer, but she has a firm hold and all he can do is dig his fingers into the meat of his tail when she presses her lips to his.

The kin-connection with Dean goes silent in a near violent way and if it wasn’t for his overwhelming presence in Castiel’s mind, he would think that Dean severed the link. His empty stomach clenches and if there was anything in it, Castiel might throw up. He doesn’t like the tacky sensation of Lilith’s too red mouth. There’s a pungent scent all around her that smells fake and makes his eyes water.

She pulls away and pats his cheek. Her voice goes high pitched and the tones change with every word, rising and falling in a falsely playful tune. “You just be a good boy and do what I tell you to and I won’t have to be mean, okay? When you’re bad, I’ll have to punish you and we don’t want to do that, do we?”

 _(Shake your head, Cas. Tell her that you don’t want that.)_ Dean’s thoughts are firm and steady and it makes Castiel shiver because Dean is forcing himself to sound calm when he’s anything but. Castiel can see him from here and Dean’s eyes are burning and he’s trembling. He’s laying on his side. His arms are behind his back and his ankles are bound together.

Castiel shakes his head and Lilith smiles brightly and runs her hands through his hair again . “Good boy. And if you’re on your best behavior, I’ll even let you and Dean do whatever you want together.” She hooks her finger into the collar and jerks him forward. “You just need to remember that you belong to _me_ and Dean won’t be around forever. So have your fun while you can.”

She kisses him on the forehead before standing up and turning around. “Oh don’t look so scary, Dean. You knew he was mine before you even met him. I really don’t understand this fuss you’re making, but you can stay like that as punishment until I decide to let your brother back in.” Lilith gestures at the others, waiting by the door. “I want two of you to stand guard outside. Sam and Jess can come back in… oh, an hour? Maybe two? Keep Singer and Meg out too. And Kubrick, turn off that damn pump.”

Kubrick skirts a wide path around Castiel to get to the pump. It shuts off with a groaning hiss and he follows Lilith and the others out the door without a word. The door beeps when it shuts and Castiel leans forward to press his face into his tail again. He doesn’t know how long it is before he hears the rustling of Dean on the bed.

When he looks up, Dean is on his stomach and wiggling. Castiel can see the skin around Dean’s wrists is red and raw and Dean is _hurting himself_ trying to get free. It makes his stomach turn again and a bright unhappy flare sparks high in his chest. The pain in his back throbs in a steady pulse as Castiel uncurls and drag-pushes the too long distance to Dean’s bed. He reaches out to touch the ropes and Dean rocks away in surprise. _(Dean, stop.)_

_(Holy shit! Cas, don’t sneak up a guy like that!)_

_(Don’t move.)_ Castiel’s arms shake and the burning bolts twinge along his spine as he pulls himself up onto the edge of Dean’s bed, pushing hard with the coil of his tail. The blankets and sheets are soft under his hands, but they catch on his scales as he pulls himself far enough that he can sit without sliding off.

Dean winces when Castiel lightly touches his wrists. He puts one hand over Dean’s to hold them still, the other picks at the rope until he finds a loose enough strand. He’s watching him over his shoulder and his breath hitches when Castiel leans down to sink his teeth into the rope. It takes only a few moments of chewing before it snaps.

Castiel sits back and lets Dean’s arms fall to his sides. He lets out a sigh of relief that ends in a high pitched squeak when Castiel turns and leans over his legs. He chews through the rope there too before tossing the remains of them to the floor. 

_(Thanks, Cas. You didn’t have to –)_

He has no patience for the human pleasantries. When he sits up, he tries to flare his back fans and fold them so the webbing is out of the way. He wants Dean to be able to see the area along his spine. _(What did she do to my back?)_

Dean’s hands are warm when they touch the spines of his fans and the webbing between them. His hands are a more pleasant warmth than the ones before and Castiel presses back into them. Dean’s touches are light, starting at the base of his neck where the clasp of the collar rests and working down his spine. When they come to the spot where the cold metal had touched, Castiel gasps and pulls away at the sharp throb of pain.

 _(Sorry…)_ Dean touches higher again and then Castiel feels something wide press just under the collar’s clasp. Warm gusts of air wash over his spine in uneven puffs and Castiel realizes that Dean is leaning his forehead against his back. _(She… it was a tag-gun.)_

Dean is reluctant to share the images he sees, but Castiel pulls at his mind. He wants to know what a tag-gun is. He needs to know what Lilith did to his back. When he gets the image of a thick red welt the size of the medallion on his collar, it is also accompanied with images of a small square. Dean tries to explain that the square is called a ‘chip’, but it can also be called a ‘tag’ and it is used in association with machines the float beyond the steady-blue to keep track of the location of things.

It means that Lilith will always be able to find Castiel as long as the tag remains buried in the muscles of his back. It means that even if Dean and Sam manage to get him back to the sea, he won’t be able to return to the colony without leading Lilith right back to them. He can never go home.

Castiel pulls away from Dean and he bends his arms and back, ignoring the steady beat of pain in his muscles as he tries to reach the welt. It’s too high up, too close to the blades of his shoulders, for him to reach.

 _(Dean, take it out!)_ A frantic kind of horror is pulsing deep and tight in his chest and Castiel is breathing fast and hard.

Dean’s hands pulls his arms away and lower them to Castiel’s sides. He’s trying to force a calm that he isn’t feeling himself into the kin-connection. _(I… I can’t, Cas. She’ll just put it back and she might ‘punish’ us – whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean – if we do anything to it. We’re going to have to leave it there and… I’ve got a friend on board, a veterinarian, I’ll ask her what we can do to get it out and I swear this won’t be in your back when we get you out of here.)_

Castiel is trembling and he loses his ability to hold himself upright. He sags back against Dean and Dean’s arms comes up as if to wrap around him, but they hesitate and remain hanging awkwardly in the air. Dean wants to comfort him and his thoughts are a constant stream of apology and regret for not being able to do more to stop them.

The indecision vanishes the moment Castiel stifles a sob. Despite the pain in his back, Castiel doesn’t complain when Dean hugs his tightly. He twists around and presses his face into the smooth skin of Dean’s chest. He’s still not wearing a shirt and there’s nothing but the expanse of Dean’s back for him to digs his fingers into and hold on.

His throat feels tight and Castiel wants the collar off. It marks him as a pet, a possession of Lilith’s, and he feels like it’s choking him. He thinks he might suffocate under the pressure of the tag in his back and the collar around his neck. He’s shaking again and it has nothing to do with the cold air of the room and everything to do with broken noises he’s making against the tattoo on Dean’s skin.

Castiel barely notices when Dean leans them back onto the bed, or when he hooks his leg over Castiel’s tail to draw up the length of it that is still hanging off the edge of the mattress. He threads his tail around Dean’s legs and presses against him. He seeks comfort in the heat of Dean’s skin and the surety of his touch. Castiel doesn’t let go.

And neither does Dean. 


	8. Severing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel’s thoughts are on his nest-brothers, his nest-sisters, the garrison, and the rest of the colony. It’s been seven days now and he wonders if they’ve tried looking for him. He wonders if they think him alive, or if they’ve accepted that he’s been taken by the two-tails – humans – and assume him dead. He wonders if, in the middle of the war, they would have the time to cover his sleep-shelf with shells and stones and sing the songs of farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to even be marginally interested enough in OotD to click the link. Thank you to everyone who's give Out of the Deep a chance; to everyone who sacrificed a good night's sleep; to everyone who's commented, left a kudos, subscribed or bookmark. Thank you to all of you and your wonderful support. Out of the Deep wouldn't be where it is without all of you and you're all just... you're all just BRILLIANT.**  
> 
> Channeled myself some Arthur Shappey right there. 
> 
> To save space, I'm only naming the artists in the order of their art at the end of the chapter. For a properly sorted list, you can visit my [Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) page. There are also some links to some lovely little drabbles/ask-fics that I've received. The page also contains Q&As I've done on tumblr, fanmix playlists, and some drabbles I've done myself (which will eventually be added to AO3). 
> 
> The lovely artists (in order) who were amazing enough to draw something for OotD are... [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com) (I made a bookmark out of this one), [danceswithfriedchicken](http://danceswithfriedchicken.tumblr.com), [mysterymind277](http://mysterymind277.tumblr.com), [fitzbee](http://fitzbee.tumblr.com), [livx18](http://livx18.tumblr.com), [tigercat070](http://tigercat070.tumblr.com) and [persephonesmee](http://persephonesmee.tumblr.com) (removed because link broke and could not fix).
> 
> Once again, thank you everyone for the beautiful artwork! If I've forgotten your's, please let me know! I'm trying to keep track of them all... But I'm... I'm really, terribly disorganized.

Castiel stares down at the bristle-stick Dean had given him. It’s not much longer than his hand and one end is flatter and has a clump of rough bristles, like hair, sticking out of one side. He rubs the pad of his thumb over them, bending the bristles in one direction and watching as they snap back in place.

He puts the bristle-stick on the ledge next to the very-small-sea and picks up a squishy-white thing. Dean had given him both. The squishy-white is round and thick at one end and tapers to a thin flat edge at the other. There is a hard knob sticking out of the thick-end. Castiel puts the squishy-white next to the bristle-stick and picks up a round-mirror. The bars connected to it that keep it propped up dangle loosely under it. He turns the mirror at different angles, catching the light and reflecting small bright disks on the walls.

A flash of blue gets his attention. Castiel looks at his reflection and the tightly braided rope resting at the base of his throat. A knot of anger and hatred burns bright in his chest at the sight of the collar. A gold disk of metal is settled against the dip of his clavicle and there are symbols carved into the disk. Some he recognizes as numbers, like on the clock, only in the mirror they are backwards. The others are like the ones on the squishy-white.

 _(Dean, what are these?)_ He sends the images of the symbols into the kin-connection, not taking his eyes off the reflection.

Dean is in the small-sea. It’s been empty for a while now. He has a much bigger bristle-stick that has a similar shape to the razor, only instead of blades along the flat edge, there are thick bristles. He’s using the bristles to push bubbled foam around the floor  and up the glass-walls.

 _(Letters. Like we use numbers to count, we use letters to write. Different combinations of letters make different words, so on and so forth blah, blah, blah. The tag has your name on it and –)_ Dean’s thoughts turn dark and angry. He makes a vicious gesture with one hand and his upper lip curls back as disgust fills the connection. _(And Lilith’s contact information in case… well in case you get ‘lost’. So you can be returned to her.)_

 _(Could you teach me to read them?)_ Castiel looks toward the small-sea. It’s disorienting to have their positions reversed, with Dean standing under the bars and Castiel able to move freely – in the loosest sense of the word – around the room.

Dean pauses in his pushing of the large bristle-stick and he runs a hand through his hair. It comes away wet and he crinkles his nose at it before wiping his palm over his thigh. Dean’s back and chest are covered in a layer of sweat, but that doesn’t seem to bother him like having it on his hands does. He leans his weight on the bristle-brush and looks over at Castiel.

_(I helped teach Sammy his letters when he was growing up, so I guess I could teach you too. Why the sudden interest?)_

_(It is something to do to distract me from my situation. I don’t enjoy being upset and I’d like to be able to read the notes Sam and the others make on me.)_ He puts the mirror down and picks up the squishy-white again. _(Would you be able to teach me to write too?)_

 _(Yeah, sure. I’ll ask Sam if he can get some books for you to start on or something.)_ Dean rolls his shoulders and returns to pushing the bristle-stick. _(Now stop avoiding it, and do what I told you to.)_

Castiel frowns him and ensures Dean can feel his displeasure through their link. It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what Dean told him to, it’s that all he has is the memories Dean gave him to go by. Dean didn’t stop to show Castiel what to do and the memories aren’t enough to give him any sort of confidence with moving forward to the task at hand.

Earlier, after Castiel had finally calmed down, Dean had gotten up to turn on the pump. While it worked at emptying the rest of small-sea, Dean had carried Castiel back into the very-small-sea. By then, Castiel’s scales were completely dry and Dean was brimming with worry that dehydration would be very bad for him.

Though his fins and fans were tight when he tried to move them, Castiel had been fine and he would have preferred to stay on Dean’s bed. It was like laying on a bed of sea sponge, only better. It was softer, and warm and the blankets and pillow smelled of Dean. He had wondered if it would be warmer _under_ the blankets. He would have to find a way to get Dean to let him test that hypothesis.

But it was while they had been laying together, when Castiel was calmer, that Dean had shifted so they were face to face. He had asked if Castiel was feeling better, and when he had responded with his throat-voice, Dean had made a comment about brushing his teeth.

Even now, after Dean has given him the bristle-stick and squishy-white, Castiel doesn’t know what he meant by that. He knows what he’s supposed to do, but he doesn’t know _why_.

_(It’s coz’ your breath smells, Cas. I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but seriously, it’s rank.)_

Castiel glares at Dean’s back. _(I’ve never had to do this before.)_

 _(Well you’ve never been out of the water before, have you? I’m guessing since your mouth has always been full of salt water and stuff, it’s never had the chance to grow the bacteria and shit that makes your breath stink. Now that you’re out more often, you should brush ‘em.)_ Wry amusement filters through from Dean’s side of their connection and he gives Castiel a lopsided grin over his shoulder. _(Y’don’t want your teeth to rot outta your head while you’re here, do you? Can’t imagine many fin-kin will wanna kiss you when you get home with half your teeth missing.)_

He squeezes the squishy-white and brushes disapproval over Dean’s thoughts. Castiel doesn’t want to think about kisses or touches or anything like that anymore. It only serves to make him upset and the last time they talked about it, it had led to Lilith putting the tracking chip in his back. Despite the fact that Dean’s kiss had been enjoyable, Castiel doesn’t want anything else bad to happen. Nothing good has come from kissing.

The brewing discontent twitching along the edges of Castiel’s mind, that he lets flick out for Dean to feel, is more than enough to chastise him. Dean stops pushing the foam long enough to give Castiel an apologetic smile, reaching out with his mind to soothe the trembling of his emotions. _(Sorry, Cas. I was just teasing.)_

_(I don’t like being teased. Especially not on that matter.)_

Dean’s thoughts vibrate with curiosity and an honest concern. There is nothing malicious or mocking about his question. _(Are you still worried you’ll never be kissed again?)_

Castiel fidgets with the squishy-white, turning it over and over in his hands. _(I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Please change the subject or don’t talk at all.)_

He squeezes the squishy-white, like Dean does in the memories he gave him, but the coloured jelly doesn’t come out the thick-end like it should. Castiel does it again, harder this time, but nothing happens. He makes a small noise of frustration in the back of his throat and the kin-connection pulses with his annoyance.

 _(Take the cap off, dude.)_ The images Dean provides are bright with his amusement and Castiel flares his fans in disapproval.

He doesn’t appreciate that his frustrations are being seen as entertainment. Dean’s instructions on how to grip and twist the knob at the thick-end are tinged with more apologies. With careful movements, Castiel manages to remove the knob. Beneath it is a shorter protrusion and it has a hole in the center of it. He holds it up to look inside, but the opening is full of a pale blue jelly.

When his fingers tighten marginally, the jelly oozes out a little. Fascinated, Castiel holds his palm under it and squeezes hard. The cool jelly fills his palm and the air is thick with a crisp, sharp scent. It’s oddly familiar and Castiel tries to remember where he’s smelled it before. He closes his eyes and sniffs the jelly, sorting through his memories.

Dean’s short burst of laughter is quickly smothered, but it still echoes against the empty walls of the small-sea and earns him another glare. He’s clearly amused and even without their link, the grin spreading across his face is more than enough to tell Castiel that Dean knows exactly what he’s trying to remember.

_(Dean, tell me.)_

_(No can do, Cas. You told me not to talk about it anymore.)_

_(But I only said not to talk about – oh! Your breath. The jelly smells like your breath.)_ He sniffs at it again and yes, that sharp tang is the same as the scent from right before Dean kissed him.

Dean laughs again. _(Good job. It’s called ‘mint’. And you’ve just wasted a whole tube of toothpaste, thanks for that. Now just put some of that on the end of the toothbrush – no not that end, the one with the – yes, on the bristles.)_

Castiel is apprehensive of following the rest of the instructions. According to Dean, he is supposed to rub the ‘toothpaste’ over his teeth, brushing with the bristled end of the ‘toothbrush’ and he’s supposed to scrub his tongue to. It doesn’t sound pleasant and he’s not sure what this ‘mint’ will taste like. When Dean turns away, Castiel dips his head and tentatively licks the jelly still piled in his palm.

It’s flavor is bright and bursts across his tongue in a cool rush that leaves tingling in its wake. He runs his tongue over his lips and the tingling transfers there. Castiel wants to taste it again and he has his tongue out to lick again and investigate further but a flare of surprise sparks through the connection, stopping him short. Castiel looks up to see Dean staring at him.

 _(You…)_ Dean’s emotions vanish from the kin-connection and he shakes his head, looking away. Castiel doesn’t like it when Dean blocks his feelings from him. It’s hard enough to understand humans without knowing his emotions too. The edges of Dean’s ears are red and it’s creeping down his neck. _(You shouldn’t lick that stuff. And don’t eat or swallow it either. You just have to brush, scrub and then spit into the bucket.)_

_(Why?)_

_(It’s not healthy. Just do it, Cas.)_ Dean starts rubbing the foam into the floors vigorously.

Castiel is eyeing the toothbrush and the paste on the bristles when the door beeps. He twists around sharply, fans flaring aggressively. The door opens and he relaxes when Jess walks in, Sam right behind her.

“Hello.” He waves with the toothbrush and they both look surprised to see him holding it. Relief relaxes their shoulders, but they share a brief and unhappy look when they see the collar.

“Hey guys. How are things on the outside?” Dean waves too.

Sam greets Castiel but walks past him, going to the platform on the other side of small-sea. Dean meets him at the wall. Castiel doesn’t need to listen to their conversation to know that Dean is telling him about what happened while they were locked out. Jess greets him too, but she pulls up a chair and sits close to the end of very-small-sea where Castiel has his arms over the wall.

She smiles and points at the objects on the ledge. “Are you going to brush your teeth, Castiel?”

He tilts his head at her. A few of the words are familiar, but isn’t sure if what she’s talking about is what the thinks she’s talking about. Castiel’s left hand is still full of the mint jelly, so he uses the toothbrush to point. “Mirror. Toothpaste.” He wiggles the toothbrush. “Toothbrush. Castiel toothbrush toothpaste teeth. Mint breath.”

Talking in their language with his throat-voice is annoying. He doesn’t know the proper way to construct sentences and it bothers him that he sounds like a stupid child. Even though Jess is smiling and nodding as if she understands, Castiel doesn’t know for sure if she does.

The touch of his mind to hers makes Jess gasp and push away from the very-small-sea. Her chair skids across the floor, moving on the round disks underneath it.

“Jess? Everything okay?” Sam and Dean both turn to look at them.

Jess is looking at Castiel with wide eyes and a round mouth. “I think he’s… I think Castiel is –”

_(Hello Jess.)_

She gasps again and covers her mouth with her hands. Her thoughts are washed over with awe and surprise. “Oh my gosh. I can hear you. You’re in my head!”

Sam comes to her side and places a hand on her shoulder. “Try talking back to him. Just think in pictures and feelings at first. You’ll get better with words the more you use it.”

Jess nods and closes her eyes. Castiel tilts his head and reaches for her mind more firmly than before. While she works at pulling up welcoming emotions, he does a thorough search of her surface thoughts. He wants to make sure that he can trust her.

Jess’s thoughts are different from Dean’s like how Sam’s were different, but they are also similar in some ways. She is excited and curious and pleased all at once, like Sam had been. There are lingering tendrils of envy that evaporate soon after Castiel’s presence touches her mind. He doesn’t ask after them.

Castiel compares what he can feel of her thoughts to what he knows of Sam’s and Dean’s. Like Sam, she is thoughtful and inquisitive. She is bright and smart and thinking of many things all at once. But Castiel also finds aspects similar to Dean. Jess is kind, warm and caring. Like Dean, a large portion of her thoughts concern Sam.

Similar to Dean, she likes making things with her hands. There are surface memories, thoughts that Castiel doesn’t have to invade where she wouldn’t want him to go, that show him a ledge covered in bowls and items Castiel doesn’t recognize. He pulls at those memories and brushes his curiosity over them. He wants to know what it is that Jess likes to do.

_(Baking. I like to cook. It’s like a tasty kind of science. That’s a kitchen, where we make food.)_

Castiel forgets about the toothbrush and the toothpaste in his hands. While Sam and Dean clean the small-sea, he teaches Jess how to use the kin-connection and takes the opportunity to learn about kitchens and all the different ways humans can prepare food. And it is _fascinating._ There are so many _different_ things that humans eat compared to fin-kin. In the colony, they eat anything they can kill that isn’t fin-kin. And they certainly don’t do anything so interesting as _cook_ it, or flavor it with different spices and oils and there are just so many _things_.

Their conversation makes Castiel’s stomach rumble and the acidic tickle at the back of his throat is annoying. He tries to ignore it and keep learning about the different things that are in the standard kitchen, but Jess stops and concern flashes through her mind.

_(You didn’t eat the food we left you last night?)_

He shakes his head. _(I’m fine. Tell me more about this ‘fridge’.)_

Jess frowns and stands up. She gets a towel from a drawer under the ledge but closer to the far wall where the table rests. When she sits back down, she holds it out to Castiel. _(Wipe that toothpaste off your hands with this. I’ll take that.)_ She takes the toothbrush and puts it beside the squished toothpaste container, placing it with the bristles and their smear of unused toothpaste pointing up.

While Castiel cleans his hands, Jess turns her chair until she can reach another set of drawers. When she opens them she pauses and a sudden flash of recognition sweeps over her mind. Castiel bunches his tail beneath him and pushes up to lean over the glass wall, trying to look over her arm and into the drawer to see what she sees. She takes out the same black shell full of papers that she placed there earlier this morning and puts it on the ledge next to the toothpaste.

Castiel brushes his curiosity about the shell against the edges of her mind and he looks at her with his head tilted in question. Jess pushes away his inquisitive thoughts. There is a hesitancy to hers and she chews on her bottom lip. From the same drawer, she takes out a square-white food container. She opens it and places it within reach.

_(Here, eat up. I need to talk to Sam about something.)_

He reaches out and closes the container. _(I don’t want to get you in trouble for giving me food when Lilith said not to.)_

 _(You let me handle Lilith. Now eat.)_ Jess flips it open again and there is no room for Castiel to object when she narrows her eyes at him.

It’s a familiar look that sparks a painful longing for home in his chest. He’s seen the same expression more times than he can count on Anna’s face when he was growing up. Castiel ducks his head and pulls the container closer. He pokes at a pile of small white-brown squares, and there are a few oblong orange things rolling in one corner next to a mass of strings covered in what looks like chunky blood.

When he turns to ask Jess what the foods are, he finds her already across the room and standing on the platform. She’s leaning over the glass-wall of small-sea and talking in quiet, hushed tones to Sam. Her emotions are rolling in trepidation and if Castiel tried, he could probably hear the base thoughts as she speaks. But Jess wants privacy and Castiel will give her that.

Dean is standing closer to the center of small-sea. He isn’t cleaning and he has his head turned toward Sam and Jess, brow furrowed. Castiel picks up the slack he allowed between their kin-connection while he was talking with Jess and he tugs on it to get Dean’s attention. When Dean turns to him, he holds up a piece of the white-brown squares.

_(What is this?)_

A smile pulls at Dean’s lips. _(Breaded chicken.)_ He names the orange things as carrots – a type of vegetable – and the strings are a type of pasta called ‘spaghetti’. Dean laughs when Castiel asks why the spaghetti is covered in chunky blood and he explains that it’s actually a tomato sauce.

_(Keep the bucket close, okay? Sam said you might not be able to process anything but the meat so if you’re gonna throw up or something, do it in the bucket. I really don’t want to have to clean fin-kin puke off the floor.)_

Castiel nibbles at the chicken piece. It peels apart in thin strips against his teeth and the meat is smooth and flavorful. The brown layer – the breading – crumbles on his tongue and lends it a gritty texture. He likes the taste and eats the whole piece, chewing slowly to savor it. The remaining pieces are eaten two at a time and Castiel licks his fingers clean when he’s done.

He tries a carrot next. It’s crunchy, and becomes very pulpy the more he chews. The taste is a little sweet, but it’s the texture that he doesn’t like. The connection trembles with a brief pulse of concern from Dean when Castiel pulls the bucket over and spits the chewed remains of the carrot into it.

 _(I do_ not _like carrots.)_ Castiel wipes the back of his hand over his lips before slipping down to take in a mouthful of water. He swishes it around and spits that into the bucket too before he dumps in the remaining carrots.

Dean’s amusement tickles against the edge of Castiel’s mind. _(Try the spaghetti.)_

The pasta is cold and slimy in his fingers. He picks up one strand and it dangles from his fingertips. Castiel tilts his head, trying to figure out the best way to get it into his mouth without making a mess. He decides this best way is from above. Castiel raises his arm and leans his head back, guiding the pasta to his mouth with his other hand. The sauce is sweet, but it’s full of favours Castiel doesn’t recognize but they come together into a delicious combination. The pasta falls apart under his teeth, but it doesn’t become mush like the carrot did.

He doesn’t question why the connection with Dean falls silent in the same way it did earlier. Dean has been doing it at random moments throughout the day and he never answers Castiel’s curious looks. Most of the time, Dean’s ears will be pinking and he’ll refuse to look at Castiel. He can’t decide if it’s a human-thing or a Dean-thing. Either way, it’s something that he doesn’t understand and he wonders if he should ask Sam to clarify.

Castiel is finishing off the spaghetti and cleaning his fingers of the sauce when Sam and Jess approach the very-small-sea. He puts the empty container in the bucket and pushes it away before turning to them.

 _(Thank you for the food. I liked the spaghetti and the chicken. Can I try more human food when you eat later?)_ Castiel lets a little of his hope and anticipation leak through the kin-connection.

It’s troublesome to know that he can speak to all of three of them, but they can’t hear each other’s thoughts. There are some perks, he supposes. Like now, when he speaks directly to Sam. Castiel explains with his memories about Dean’s confusing reactions to seemingly nothing at all. Surprise ricochets back at him and Sam subtly looks at Dean over his shoulder. He can’t keep up with the flow of Sam’s thoughts and emotions. Everything is a rolling wave of surprise, confusion, and disbelief.

When Castiel tries to draw the feelings out so he can sort through them to determine the reasons why, Sam pulls away and shakes his head. _(That’s something you’re going to have to talk to Dean about or figure out on your own. If I tell you, it doesn’t matter if I’m right or wrong, Dean’ll be pissed at the both of us. He’ll be more upset than when I told you he’s bisexual.)_

Castiel cringes. He doesn’t like it when Dean is angry. He lets that subject drop and then pushes his curiosity as to why both Sam and Jess have come over. He wonders if there more tests or measurements that they want to take.

“Actually…” Jess speaks slowly as she sits down and picks up the black shell full of papers. “There’s something we want to ask you.”

“We should talk with the kin-connection. It’ll be easier for him to understand.” Sam says as he pulls over the other chair and sits too. They are both mostly at the same level as Castiel now and he doesn’t have to look up at them. He appreciates this small gesture of kindness and equality, even if they don’t realize that they are doing it.

Castiel watches as Jess opens the shell and hands a few papers to Sam. He’s baffled by the difference in their emotions. Sam is excited. He’s practically bouncing where he sits. There is a thrum of anticipation and so much curiosity Castiel can’t even begin to sort it out. Jess is much more nervous. She’s almost afraid of what she’s giving to Sam and she keeps glancing at Castiel with sympathy streaking through their connection.

After shuffling the papers and organizing them into a specific order, Sam leans forward and Castiel turns all of his attention to him. _(First, I’m going to have to explain something that happened several years ago, okay?)_

Castiel nods and he settles himself more comfortably into a corner, crossing his arms over the edge of the glass-wall and resting his chin on them. Sam is almost too eager in the memories he provides and Castiel finches at the force of them being pushed through the connection. He shoves back against Sam’s thoughts, thinning the connection so only a few can come through at a time.

Sam describes to him of an expedition from eight years previous. Castiel doesn’t quite understand the concept of a ‘year’, but he knows that it is a very long time. The closest thing he has to the number of days in a year is two seasons of the deep ocean currents. When Sam mentions a fake cave as a trap for a fin-kin, Castiel sits up, fans flaring wide in surprise and he hisses, baring his teeth.

Jess reaches out to soothe him, but Sam continues to explain how the fake cave had a speaker – like the ones set up in Castiel’s small-sea – that played a song recorded many, many years before that from the only fin-kin to have ever been studied. Castiel can clearly picture, without Sam’s memories, the not-rock false-cave that Balthazar had been trapped in. He still remembers the wrong-song and the sound of his sword on the metal door when he had to pry it open.

If Sam notices that Castiel’s emotions are bubbling with the reminder of how scared and worried he’d been all those seasons ago, he doesn’t show it. He keeps telling Castiel about how the light-beds are one of the very few places in the ocean where there have been multiple sightings of fin-kin. Hundreds of years before the first fin-kin was studied, Sam says there are records of fishermen who would find a fin-kin caught in their nets and think they were monsters. To Castiel’s horror, the fishermen would kill the fin-kin without trying to free them or talk to them.

Castiel’s fins ripple and his fans flare. He doesn’t like this story. The fake cave and the wrong-song are a sore spot with him. If he’d been only a few minutes later, Balthazar might have been taken. His nest-brother might have a bit of an attitude, but he was always loyal and one of Castiel’s best friends. Castiel would never want him to be here.

A heavy weight settles on his chest and clenches around his heart. Castiel isn’t paying attention to what Sam is saying anymore. His words and images are background thoughts skimming across the edges of Castiel’s mind as he talks about cameras and pictures.

Castiel’s thoughts are on his nest-brothers, his nest-sisters, the garrison, and the rest of the colony. It’s been seven days now and he wonders if they’ve tried looking for him. He wonders if they think him alive, or if they’ve accepted that he’s been taken by the two-tails and assume him dead. He wonders if, in the middle of the war, they would have the time to cover his sleep-shelf with shells and stones and sing the songs of farewell.

The swell of longing for the ocean and home isn’t surprising. It is no more intense than it always is and the food in his belly feels heavy. Castiel think he might be sick and he swallows around the tight lump in his throat. Balthazar and Anna, maybe even Gabriel and Lucifer and Michael… All of them must be worried and just thinking about how they might be feeling to not know what really happened to him is making his chest feel tight and it’s getting hard to breathe.

A hand touches his shoulder and Castiel looks up sharply. Jess is leaning forward and she’s trying to push apologies and sympathy through the connection. _(Just take a few deep breaths and calm down. We didn’t mean to upset you, there’s just something we want to know.)_ She turns her head to look at Sam and her expression goes cold. “Maybe we shouldn’t show him the pictures.”

The kin-connection with Sam is full of surprise and confusion. Sam doesn’t know why Jess is suddenly angry with him. Despite his large frame, Sam almost shrinks under Jess’s glare, but he fumbles to hold out the top paper from the stack in his hands. Jess glares at it before she takes it and turns it around for Castiel to see. It’s a welcome distraction and Castiel struggles against the downward spiral of his thoughts.

The picture in Jess’s hands is much more blurry than any pictures Castiel has seen so far. There are speckles in the foreground that smudge the edges of the things in the background. He squints at the image, trying to see beyond the blur.

_(This is what brought Lilith to those islands. It was the first real proof in decades that fin-kin were even in the that area.)_

It takes a moment for Castiel to pick out the patterns under the grainy quality, but eventually he does and it makes his insides feel cold. He drifts a hand down to his tail and presses his fingers to the swirling blue of his glow-pattern. The picture is of the lower half of a fin-kin, and the pattern on the tail is his own. When they show him another, even through the blur Castiel can recognize himself.

 _(I was going through some stuff in our bunk last night and I found these. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing things or if it was actually you or not. Castiel, were you ever –)_ Jess bites her lip and squeezes his fingers where her hand still rests over his. _(Is this you?)_

His nod is nothing but a quick jerk of his chin because his eyes are on the new picture Sam is holding out. It’s just as out of focus as the others, but Castiel can see the end of his tail along the edge of the picture. The majority of the image is taken up with an all too familiar face, even as blurred as it is. A quiet whimper works its way past his lips and Castiel grips tightly at the edge of the glass-wall with one hand. He touches the picture gently with the other, dragging his fingers lightly over the outline.

 _(Who is this?)_ Sam’s question is soft and tentative, as if he doesn’t want to ask it.

Castiel swallows, his throat tight again. Everything he just tried to force down is back in full and he desperately wants to hear the voices of his family again. There’s a burning behind his eyes, a precursor to tears he knows aren’t going to come because he has no more to cry.

 _(Balthazar.)_ He draws away from the picture and the glass-wall. He clenches his hand into a fist to quell the trembling of his fingers. _(My… my nest-brother.)_

He turns away and dives under the shallow waters of the very-small-sea. He can feel Jess’s upset and Sam’s regret, and there’s a quick burst of surprise and confusion along the edge of his mind from Dean. Castiel shuts them all out, closing the connections firmly as he curls up, hugging his chest tightly and hiding under the spread of his fans.

It’s not just that he misses his family and friends. There’s a pressing anger at himself for getting caught on a camera – and it doesn’t matter that at the time he didn’t even know what a camera _was_. If that had never happened, Lilith would never have come to the light-beds and Castiel would never have been caught. It’s his fault and it _hurts_.

Humans have made the world so complicated and there’s so much to see and know. There’s more to it now than just the simplicity of the deep and a very, very small part of Castiel is torn between wanting to return home and staying to learning more, to see it all. It’s a incredibly small part, but it scares him.

The collar is heavy around his neck and the rope rubs at his skin and scales, pinching the adipose of his fin between the disk and his throat. There’s a low throb of pain in his back. They are both reminders that he might never be able to go home.

x

A thud echoes through the water and Castiel pulls his fans out of the way, lifting his head to see over the curve of his scales. Jess is still at the computers and Sam is kneeling by the pump. The hose is back over the glass-wall and Dean is nowhere in sight. A brief bolt of panic flashes through his chest and Castiel pushes up, hoping Dean is only laying in his bed.

His coughs are more than enough to notify Sam and Jess of his breaking the surface. He clears his lungs of water and gasps through the first few painful breaths of air. The drying in his throat tickles as it always does and he coughs around it again.

Castiel reaches for Sam’s mind first out of familiarity. He knows his question is ringed with worry and brightened by the tight beginnings of panic, but he can’t be bothered to hide them. _(Where’s Dean?)_

Sam looks over his shoulder, hands stilling over the pump. _(Bathroom, I guess? He left only a moment ago. Said he had something to do and took off once he showed me how to work this thing.)_ To accentuate his point, he flips a switch and the roar of the machine makes everyone flinch. It’s only a few moments before the hose twitches and water pours from the end.

Castiel looks to the door and frowns. Maybe Dean went to get their suppers? He glances up at the clock and he’s not sure if the sea-horse shaped number just to the left of the bottom of the clock is the usual time when they eat or not. He worries his bottom lip gently and he looks between the door and the clock before looking back at Sam.

_(Did he go to get food?)_

He shrugs and stands, stretching his back before moving to the platform to steady the hose. _(Maybe. He didn’t say. Are you… are you okay now? I didn’t know those pictures were going to –)_

 _(I don’t want to talk about it.)_ Castiel jerks his head to the side, looking away.

His eyes catch over the toothbrush and the glob of toothpaste still resting on the ledge and he drags himself up by the glass-wall to reach it. Sam lets the questions drop and  busies himself with the hose. Jess is right there. Castiel touches her mind and her fingers stop over the keyboard. She turns to him with an understanding smile.

_(I hope you’re feeling better. Can I help you with something?)_

_(Dean says I need to brush my teeth. His memories were not very clear. Could you show me?)_

Jess raises her eyebrows and her smile turns into wry amusement. She crosses her arms and leans back in the chair. _(I don’t exactly have my own toothbrush to show you. But…)_ She reaches out to properly fold his fingers around the toothbrush. _(Hold it like this and copy me.)_

She holds up her index finger and her lips peel back, baring her teeth. She puts the pad of her finger to her teeth and wiggles her eyebrows expectantly. Castiel copies, pressing the bristles of the toothbrush against the points of his teeth. Jess starts slow, moving her finger in sharp up and down motions. He mirrors her as she moves her finger between her teeth and cheek.

The bristles are rough against his gums and Castiel wonders if he’s doing it wrong because he can taste blood on his tongue. He ignores it and keeps brushing, dropping his jaw when she does and scrubbing over the points and behind his teeth. The toothpaste has become a watery foam that slip-slides across his tongue.

 _(Okay, spit and then scrub your tongue down too.)_ Jess holds out the bucket and Castiel follows her instructions but gags and coughs when he pushes too far back with the toothbrush. _(Careful, don’t be too rough. On the bright side, now we know you have a gag reflex! You can rinse now.)_ She’s laughing softly as he swishes a mouthful of water.

The mint taste is refreshing and leaves a cool tingling throughout his mouth. Castiel licks his lips and takes a deep breath, only to realize he can smell the mint better too, as if it’s in his nose as well. He presses his gratefulness into the kin-connection.

 _(You’re welcome. Anything else you need help with?)_ She puts the bucket on the floor and returns her hands to the keyboard, tapping at a few of the buttons.

There is much Castiel needs help with, but there is nothing she can do about that right now. Small-sea is filling slowly and he flicks his side-fans in irritation. Even though it’s small, he misses being able to actually swim. He drums his fingers on the glass-wall. At the moment, all they can really do is talk. And Castiel has a lengthy list of questions he’s been waiting for the right time to ask Dean.

 _(Could I ask you some things?)_ He tilts his head, resting his chins on his palm. He runs his tongue over his teeth, and notes that they feel more smooth than before.

 _(You know you can ask us anything.)_ Jess nods, but her eyes stay on the computer’s screen. Her attention is split between the words she is typing and listening to Castiel.

He watches the little symbols appear on the screen. _(Does Dean have a baby?)_

Jess looks to him in sharp surprise and Castiel gives her the brief memory of Dean talking about ‘betting his baby’. She snorts and rolls her eyes before shaking her head and sharing an image of a large metal machine with elegant lines. Jess explains that Dean’s ‘baby’ is his car – one of the few things that his father left him. Inadvertently, showing him what a car is answers another of his questions.

It leads to him asking about police, and hospitals, and what the sickness Sam used to have was. He asks about how humans can change the colour of their hair and if they can change other parts of their bodies too. Castiel tries not to be too disgusted when Jess explains about plastic surgery, but he can’t stop the crinkle of his nose and the rippling in the water from his shudder.

From Jess, he learns about Dean and Sam’s relationship with Bobby, that he was close friend of their family when their mother was still alive, and they both consider him as a surrogate father after John died. Jess has no qualms with answering his questions. She’s considered part of the family and knows all of Sam’s secrets. She’s careful not to share anything that is specifically Dean’s to tell.

_(Won’t Sam be mad to know you’re telling me about him?)_

Jess shrugs. _(I’m not telling you anything he wouldn’t. I’ve been with him long enough to know what he thinks is private enough to not tell you.)_

This leads into a lengthy story of how Jess and Sam met at a place called ‘university’ where they were both learning about studying marine life. They wanted to be scientists and learn all they can about sea creatures. They were just recent graduates when they found out that there was an expedition looking for a lot of available workers for an incredible amount of pay.

It was at Sam’s prompting that Dean applied to work on the boat so he could stay with them. Bobby, and a few of their other friends who needed the money and had the time to spare applied too. Jess’s anger flickers over her thoughts and her fingers clench into fists above the keyboard. She tells Castiel that it wasn’t until they had already caught him that they found out what Lilith’s true motives were.

 _(She’s such… she’s such a_ child _.)_ Jess’s upper lip curls back in a sneer and her thoughts twist darkly. _(The whole point of this trip was because she wants to add a fin-kin to her collection. We thought this was about_ science _and learning about a new species. But no, she’s got all kinds of illegal pets and it’s just_ disgusting _what she does.)_ Her shoulders slump and her bottom lip trembles as she looks at him. _(If we had known how human you were, we never would have… Sam never would have shot you on the reef.)_

Castiel reaches out and touches her shoulder gently. She’s being entirely truthful and he wishes he could find it in himself to accept her apologies. But it’s hard when he’s still trying to understand why humans think it’s okay to capture creatures they don’t understand just to study them.

Jess sighs heavily and shakes herself out. She rubs at the back of her neck and her sheepish smile is soft as she looks at him through the curtain of her hair. _(Do you have other questions?)_

_(That was most of them. Dean agreed to teach me how to read and write and he’s going to ask Sam for books. Do you have books?)_

_(Nothing that would be easy enough for a first timer. Not here at least. But I’m pretty sure with this kin-connection you’ll be able to catch on quicker than most.)_ She curls a few strands of her yellow hair around her fingers. _(Exactly how much can you use this? I mean, since we can share memories, can you take our knowledge and use it for yourself?)_

It takes a moment for Castiel to figure out what she’s asking. _(No. If I could do that, I would have simply taken the memory of teeth brushing from Dean instead of having you show me.)_

 _(Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. What about… Do you remember that time you hurt Dean?)_ Jess provides the memory of Dean holding his head and doubled over. He winces. It is a shaming and unhappy memory for him. _(Why don’t you do that to Lilith, or Alistair and Gordon when they’re hurting you? It would really knock those bastards on their asses.)_

It’s a good question and Castiel’s not sure if he can explain it so she can understand, but he tries. Using the kin-connection to overwhelm someone else’s mind with potent emotions is incredibly taboo in the colony. The kin-connection is a precious, intimate bond between fin-kin and to abuse it in such a manner is worthy of exile.

Exile is a worse punishment than death. Castiel never really understood why, but he does now. It’s maddening not to have the voices of his kin constantly singing in the back of his mind. He thinks, if it wasn’t for Dean and his connection with Sam and now Jess, that he might have attempted more desperate escapes days ago.

He doesn’t tell her that he might have killed himself, if only to get away from the silence.

 _(Their actions alone disgust me. Why would I want to be able to touch their thoughts and feel their emotions?)_ Castiel shrugs and turns around so his back is against the wall and his arms are resting along the edge of glass-wall. He flicks the end of his tail up out of the water and watches the droplets on his fins. _(It’s been so ingrained into me to_ not _do it, it never really occurred to me to attack them like that. I lost control when I hurt Dean and it is incredibly shameful. I don’t want to do it again.)_

Jess’s answer is interrupted by the door opening. Castiel didn’t hear the beep of it over the rumbling of the pump and he sits up a little straighter. Dean comes through the door backward and he’s talking to someone hidden behind him. He’s laughing when he turns around and he’s carrying a few of the white food containers.

Castiel is more interested in the woman with the wavy dark hair and black nails than the rest of the food boxes. She’s wearing a white coat like Sam and Jess’s, but the sleeves are rolled back and there are bands of black around her wrists and silver on some of her fingers. Her eyes are sharp and they go wide when they fall on Castiel.

Her smile gets bigger. “Well, hello there, angelfish!”

Dean laughs again, passing the small-sea to give Jess one of the containers. “Jesus, Pam, don’t call him that. I told you, his name is Castiel. I just call him ‘Cas’.”

“Naw, Winchester. I like ‘angelfish’. Suits those pretty looks of his.” She puts the two containers that she’s holding on the ledge and leans over the far end of the very-small-sea, resting her elbows on the glass-wall. Castiel draws his tail up closer to himself and away from her. He flares his fans, hunching forward so the ones on his back aren’t pinned against the glass.

It doesn’t have the desired effect and she only smiles wider. “See? The dorsal fins even look like wings when he spreads them like that.”

Castiel gropes for Dean’s mind and he relaxes marginally when Dean  accepts the connection without fault. He soothes over the bright flashes of anxiety skipping through Castiel at this new person who insists on standing so close.

_(Cas, it’s okay. Pamela is a friend. She’s the veterinarian I told you about earlier. I brought her to come take a look at your back. If Lilith asks, we’re just going to tell her it’s to make sure that she didn’t do any lasting damage shooting you up with that chip.)_

“Pam… ela…?” He asks slowly, testing the name.

She nods. “Nice to meet’cha, angelfish.”

“Angelfish?” He tilts his head and frowns at the images of the same kind of fish he gets from Sam, Dean and Jess. All three kin-connections are vibrating with amusement. Only Jess explains that Pamela is giving him a new nickname.

He shakes his head and points to his chest. “Castiel. No ‘angelfish’.”

“I think the word you’re looking for there is ‘not’. ‘Castiel, _not_ angelfish’. Have they been teaching you bad English?” Pamela turns her smirk to Dean and lifts her eyebrows. “I suppose that’s to be expected if you’re learning from Dean.”

“Hey, lay off. Dean’s a good teacher.” Sam steps off the platform and accepts the box of food from Dean while turning off the pump. The small-sea isn’t quite full yet and Castiel looks to Dean, pushing his confusion through the link.

_(Just while we eat and Pamela’s here. Oh, I brought you a box of your own too.)_

_(But Lilith –)_

_(Said you were a good boy and if you keep being a good boy she’ll let us do what we want.)_ Dean’s thoughts fluctuate from bitter to embarrassed and the back of his neck is going red again. _(I know she meant that in a sexual way, but I figure why can’t it apply to food too? It sucks that you’ll have to be well behaved, but if you don’t try and break out or attack anyone, we should be okay for feeding you.)_

He puts the third box of food on the ledge next to the toothbrush and toothpaste. _(The longer we can keep Lilith in the dark about us trying to bust you out, the better. And as much as I hate to say it, you playing nice with her is one of our best bets at keeping her off our backs.)_

Castiel hisses at the suggestion and glares at Dean, but his displeasure filters back at him. Dean doesn’t like the plan anymore than he does, but he’s right. It’s sound logic and he can’t think of any reason not to follow through with it beyond that he simply doesn’t like Lilith.

 _(Fine. I won’t be happy about it though.)_ He pulls the container closer and fumbles to open the lid. _(Why does she assume that there would be sexual aspects to our relationship?)_

 _(Dunno. Guess she thinks my reputation won’t be stopped by a species barrier or something, and I have’t been doing much to make her think otherwise.)_ Dean grabs one of the boxes Pamela had been carrying and sits on the ledge in its place. Pamela does the same and Castiel ignores the little twinge in his chest when he notices how closely together they sit, elbows brushing occasionally as they eat.

Tonight’s supper consists of something Dean calls a ‘hamburger’ and swears by his car, again, that it is the best meal on the planet. Castiel thinks it’s too bulky and he picks it apart. A hot juice runs out of the circular slice of meat and he hisses when it burns his fingers.

Jess takes his container and uses her fork and knife to cut the hamburger into smaller chunks, separating the meat from the rest. _(Wait until these pieces have cooled down. Try the other stuff first.)_

Castiel examines the thin, golden strips. The first is crisp and salty and tastes wonderful. He doesn’t really taste the rest so much as he inhales them. He’s licking the salt from his fingertips when Dean closes his emotions off again as Jess explains that the golden strips are called ‘french fries’. When he asks if he can have more, she tells him that too many is unhealthy. Sam offers him some of his ‘salad’ which Castiel translates into ‘unappetizing green things’.

When he says this, it sends Dean and Pamela into fits of laughter while Jess and Sam glare at them both. To mollify them, Castiel tries a few leaves. They are crunchy and mostly tasteless. It’s the oily sauce overtop that gives it a tangy flavor. Castiel licks it from the webbing between his fingers and catches, from the corner of his eye, the tips of Dean’s ears going red again.

_(You really need to stop that.)_

_(Stop what?)_ Castiel tries the leaf of lettuce from the hamburger, but it’s limp and warm and he doesn’t like it as much as he liked the crisp ones in Sam’s salad. He puts it aside and picks up a piece of the spongy white-brown thing that is much different than the white-brown of the breaded chicken. _(What’s this?)_

_(The bun. It’s a kind of bread. You need to stop licking your fingers and stuff. People don’t do that.)_

He eats the bun and rolls it around on his tongue, entertained by how it gets soggy and falls apart before he starts chewing. _(I’m not people, Dean.)_

_(Yeah, well, you’re here with people and we don’t lick our fingers all… all…)_

_(All what?)_

_(All s_ eductive, _like. I know you’re not meaning it like that, but you’re kind of doing it like it and it’s really… It’s really distracting. So cut it out and eat with a fork or something.)_ Dean bites into his burger more viciously than Castiel thinks necessary and he’s staring at the floor like it personally affronted him.

Castiel’s fingers are hovering over a slice of red that Jess identifies as a piece of tomato. He’s staring at Dean with wide eyes and he can feels his cheeks warming as a breezy kind of alarm starts dancing low in his chest. _(I’m not being seductive.)_

There’s frustration marring the edges of Dean’s thoughts. _(Yes, you totally are. Next think I know, you’re gonna be sucking on your fingers or something and making inappropriate noises and I’m gonna have an inappropriate reaction that’s gonna send Sam and Jess into fits and Pam will never let me live it down. So, seriously, cut it out.)_

He withdraws from the container, too nervous to eat now. His fins ripple and the spines of his fans flex in agitation. _(It wasn’t my intention – I didn’t know. I wasn’t aware that I could even – that you would think of me like –_ why _would you even consider me to be – I’m sorry, I –)_

It’s confusing and Castiel doesn’t like being confused by their entirely too human ways. There is nothing sexual about keeping his fingers clean. Is there? He doesn’t understand what could be affecting Dean, let alone why Dean would even be affected by it in the first place. Dean is human and Castiel is fin-kin and there can’t be anything about him that Dean finds attractive or seductive. Can there?

But it’s not like Castiel _wants_ Dean to think either of those things. Because he _doesn’t_.

A small voice in the back of his mind calls him a liar and Castiel lashes out at it. It sounds too much like Gabriel’s teasing tones and the last thing he wants to deal with right now is any thoughts that even remotely associate to his family.

Surprise and concern spark over his mind from both Sam and Jess’s kin-connections. He doesn’t feel any of Dean’s emotions, but he can see the surprise on his face in the way his eyes widen and his lips part. There’s a smear of red and yellow at the corner of his mouth and Castiel knows he shouldn’t be noticing it or the way Dean absently licks it away, but he can’t help it. Pamela leans around him, eyebrows raised in question.

 _(Whoa, Cas, whoa! Calm down. You look like you’re going to have another panic attack or something. It’s not that big a deal, really.)_ Dean is putting down his container and sliding off the ledge to stand. Pamela is right at his side, looking more curious than she is concerned.

“What happened?” Jess’s voice matches the apprehension washing through from her link.

“Did you say something stupid, Dean?” Sam is accusing even as he’s trying to calm the surges of rolling panic that are starting to make Castiel’s hands shake. He presses his palms tightly against his tail, hiding them under the adipose of the fins running along its length.

“Yeah, yeah, I said something stupid. Shut up and let me deal with it.” Dean flaps one hand at them and walks slowly around the edge of the very-small-sea. _(I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t – I don’t know what you’re freaking about now, but it’s okay, really. I’m not mad or anything, I swear. If you have another freak out, Lilith is going to be pissed. Remember how we just talked about this?)_

Castiel’s fins keep rippling and the tip of his tail twitches. The very-small-sea is starting to feel too confining and Castiel needs to get _out_. He needs to get away from Dean and swim, even if it’s just in circles in small-sea. He needs to put the glass-walls and the bars between him and Dean and he needs to keep those barriers between them.

Dean is _dangerous_.

He presses himself into the corner, away from Dean as he comes closer. Dean stops short and the wall in the kin-connection that is keeping his emotions hidden drops without warning. Castiel is unprepared for the flood of confused hurt and worry and he flinches from it. His reaction only makes Dean frown and the wounded tinge to his thoughts doubles.

Castiel can feel Dean reaching and sifting through the wisps of his thoughts, trying to find the source of his upset. He hides those from Dean, trapping them behind his own wall where he keeps the things he doesn’t want Dean or Sam, or now Jess, to see.

_(Cas? I’m not going to hurt you or anything. If this is about the being seductive thing, I didn’t mean – well I did mean that you were being accidentally sexy – but I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or whatever it is that I did. Please, man, talk to me?)_

He sinks lower into the water and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. _(I need to swim.)_

“Yeah, okay, we can do that.”

The pump starts up a moment later. _(Are you going to let Pam look at your back before we get you into the tank?)_

Castiel nods but doesn’t move. Pamela can look at his back when they help him change over to the small-sea. His gills ripple in disquiet and for a brief moment he can’t breathe properly. He seals them flat against his neck, pressing his palms against them to keep them down as he takes deep breathes, holding them for long moments in between.

His thoughts are _wrong_ and he needs to get away from them. The first step in doing that, in distancing himself from Dean, is to cut the connection. But he’s hesitant to do so. Dean’s mind, his thoughts and emotions, are where Castiel has turned to over the past several days as a place to find his calm. The kin-connection with Dean is usually as much a balm to Castiel’s own turbulent thoughts as the warmth of his arms have been since yesterday and – _no._

That is _wrong_.

He swallows thickly against the bile rising to burn the back of his throat. The food he ate is turning uncomfortably in his stomach. For the umpteenth time today, Castiel thinks he might be sick. He presses the back of his hand over his mouth and bows his head.

 _(Castiel?)_ Jess asks cautiously, her touch is cool on his shoulder. _(Are you feeling alright? Is the food disagreeing with you? Pamela is here and she can take a look at you, if you want?)_

Castiel shakes his head and pulls his shoulder out from under her hand. Her fingers are cold and although he is used to the chill of the deep, it’s uncomfortable that the touch isn’t warm like Dean’s fingers are. He shakes his head harder, as if doing so could get rid of those thoughts. He shouldn’t – he _can’t_ – think of Dean’s warmth, or the comfort he’s found being held by him.

The pump shuts off.

“Cas, it’s done. You ready?” Dean’s voice is closer. It’s right there at the edge of the very-small-sea.

He jerks away, hissing and flaring his fans at Dean. _(It’s wrong. Wrong! Stay away from me!)_ Turning, Castiel struggles up until he can lean over the glass wall and reach for Sam with both hands. “Sam!”

Sam starts in surprise, confusion vibrating thickly in his thoughts as he glances from Castiel to Dean. He fumbles as he passes his mostly empty container of salad to Jess and scoots closer so Castiel can put his arms around his shoulders again. _(Not that I mind or anything, Castiel, but Dean was ready to –)_

_(No. You help me. Get Pamela too.)_

He presses his face to Sam’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to see the bewildered expression of hurt he knows Dean is wearing to match the stinging displeasure winding its way tightly into their connection. There are bright, painful little bursts crackling behind Castiel’s ribs. He’s hurting Dean by doing this, but he can’t stop to think about that. He’s getting too attached, and thinking wrong things about Dean and he needs to get away.

“Pam, he wants you to look at his back now.” Sam folds Castiel against his chest, grunting as he takes his weight again. He wraps his tail around Sam’s waist and tightens his arms.

“Sure thing. Where did Lilith get him?”

Dean speaks slowly, uncertain with how to proceed. “It’s… between his fans. Here, I can… It’s right –”

“No!” Castiel snaps, his fins rustling as he flares his fans. “Dean not touch!”

The bright flash of surprise, still underlined with Dean’s wounded confusion, is quickly swallowed by a storm of anger. Dean slams it into the kin-connection with a ferocity Castiel has only felt from him where Lilith or Alistair are concerned. He flinches from it and severs their connection before Dean can do anything more.

“Fine. Fuckin’ _fine._ ” His words are pitched low and dangerous and it reminds Castiel of earlier when he had been speaking to Lilith. It sends the same tingling thrill down his spine straight to the tip of his tail and this time it _scares_ him because now he knows what it is and it’s _wrong_.

Jess touches his arm gently. _(That wasn’t very nice. What did Dean do?)_

He doesn’t want to answer and he cuts off his connection with her too. Jess’s fingers tighten over his arm and he tries to shake it off without unsettling himself from Sam’s arms.

“Castiel. I don’t know what’s going on but you should stop and think about what you’re doing to the few people on this boat who actually care about you.” She says softly, sternly, before taking her hand away.

Her words are translated through his connection with Sam and it leaves Sam confused and questioning. Castiel ignores it all and flares his fans so the webbing isn’t folded over the space where the welt is.

“ _Pamela._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, angelfish. I’m on it.”

He twitches at her touch. Everyone’s fingers feel so _cold_ and he shivers as she gently nudges between his fans. Pamela’s touches are soft and he barely feels it as she ghosts them along his spine. There’s a twinge of pain that he jerks away from when she reaches the welt. The muscles still ache.

“Wow, I bet that’s in there deep. I can’t be sure without an x-ray –”

“No!” Castiel hisses, twisting to glare at her over his shoulder. “No x-ray!”

Pamela backs away, hands raised unthreateningly. “Okay, no x-ray. Far as I can tell, there’s not going to be any permanent damage. You can go into the tank now.” She gives Dean a sidelong look, her eyebrows raised in a meaningful gesture. “I’ll text you with the… _details…_ on how to care for it so it doesn’t get infected or anything.”

Sam turns and takes unsteady steps toward the platform. Jess stays close, ready to help if either he or Castiel needs it. But Castiel isn’t paying attention to either of them. He’s watching over Sam’s shoulder as Pamela moves closer to Dean and puts her hand on one of his arms, both crossed tightly over his chest. They’re speaking softly, too quiet for Castiel to hear even when he spread his side-fans to try and catch the sounds. Sam is making too much noise with his hushed grunts and huffing breaths.

Castiel stops watching them long enough to turn in Sam’s arms and grab the edge of the glass-wall. He pulls as Sam lifts and Jess helps to push. He tumbles over the side. His first breath nearly chokes him as the water rushes over his gills, but the fresh sea water is remarkably calming and he spreads his fins and fingers so his webbing slows his sinking until he can breathe normally again.

_(Thank you, Sam.)_

_(No problem. It’s… Um, well, Jess is – we’re both wondering if you’re okay? You’re kinda freaking out on us and it’s… We’re just worried.)_

He shakes his head and rolls his shoulders in a shrug before dissolving the connection with Sam too. Dean is walking with Pamela to the door and Castiel watches them while trying to look like he isn’t. Pamela keeps standing too close to Dean and something sharp and acidic feels like it’s eating away at his insides, scratching at his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Castiel flicks his tail and angles toward the floor, skimming above it in lazy loops around small-sea. He never once stops watching as Dean puts one hand on the door handle and runs the other through his hair and over the back of his neck. His shoulders are tense and Castiel knows he’s the reason behind it. Guilt adds itself to the clamor of emotions threatening to overtake him.

When Pamela leans up and presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, Castiel slows to a stop as his mind whites out. It fills with a buzzing noise when Dean’s hand drops to her shoulder and slides down her arm to cup her elbow. He leans forward and Castiel knows, he _knows_ , that Dean is kissing her back.

The acid in his chest swells, spreading under his skin and his fans flare. There’s a rumbling in his throat that he thinks might be a growl, but he can’t be sure because Castiel can’t really _think_. And somewhere, tucked away in some corner hidden under the buzzing white, he might be scared by the ache under his sternum and the twitching of his fingers.

There’s a seething _want_ blazing through his muscles and Castiel can’t figure out what it’s for. He doesn’t want Pamela kissing Dean, or Dean touching Pamela. He wants to pull them apart and place himself between them. He wants to hiss at her for touching Dean when she shouldn’t be touching him. He wants things he shouldn’t be wanting and the white is fading and everything comes rushing back in a dizzying swirl of _wrong_.

A darker side of him wants to hurt Pamela and mark Dean to make sure no one touches him again.

Castiel is _scared._

Pamela steps away first and she pats Dean on the cheek. Her lips are quirked in an amused smile and she moves out of the way so Dean can pull the door open. She leans in again and puts her lips to Dean’s ear, and Dean’s shoulders shake as if he’s laughing. Her fingers flex over the back of his jeans and he turns to grab her wrist. Dean is shaking his head, but Castiel can see his smile and the soft crinkles around his eyes.

It makes his chest _burn_ and the acid under his skin itch.

Pamela laughs and her shoulder rises and falls in a shrug. She waves over her shoulder before she leaves and Dean shuts the door. It takes a few moments for Castiel to notice that Dean is leaning against the door and looking at him. His expression is a mix of a displeased frown, and furrowed confusion. It’s as if Dean doesn’t understand Castiel’s reactions anymore than Castiel does.

Neither of them move and Castiel isn’t sure if he’s even blinking, let alone breathing. He doesn’t know this ache and the acid burn or why he’s so afraid of the hurricane building in his body. He knows Dean is at its center but he can’t understand _why_.

Why Dean?

Why now? Why does everything hurt and make his insides burn and freeze and shatter? Why does it scare him?

There are so many why, why, whys that Castiel can feel a slow pounding form in his temples that makes his whole head echo with the pulse in his throat. Dean’s lips part, as if to speak, but they press together in a thin line and he closes his eyes. His chin twitches to the side and he breaks away from the door.

Out from under the weight of Dean’s eyes, Castiel manages to gasp a breath. He brings up his hand to press at his chest and the hard knot behind his ribs where the cyclone of terrifying _whys_ and _whats_ are swirling into a brutal vortex that threatens to tear him apart. He needs to think. He needs to get away from the humans – from Dean – and return to the fin-kin he was seven days ago.

Castiel wrenches away and back into the loop he’s inscribed into the waters of the small-sea. He closes his eyes and shuts out the world of the humans. The popping-clicks of his echoes guide him away from the walls and Castiel lets the illusion of the sea wash away the infection of humankind that lingers on and under his skin until he can think clearly. 

  


 

  


  
  



	9. Accepting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would Castiel mind as much, getting closer to Dean, if Dean was a fin-kin? His answer terrifies him. Because if their circumstances were different, if Castiel could take Dean home with him, he thinks he would never let him go. And that is foolish and stupid and every other word Castiel can imagine that can describe what a terrible idea it is to even think of Dean like that. 
> 
> It’s only been seven days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the thanks in the world to you wonderful readers. Your kind words and encouragement are what keeps Out of the Deep alive and kicking. **As a holiday treat and the only 'thank you' I can ever really give, come back on Thursday December 27th for Chapter 10! (And yes, you'll still be getting a chapter next Sunday too.)**
> 
> New OotD ficlets/ask-fics and Q&As have been posted at the[Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) page over on Tumblr.
> 
> This week's fanarts are by the following wonderful people (in order of appearance below): [winteryhouseboys](http://winteryhouseboys.tumblr.com), [itsmissley](http://itsmissley.tumblr.com/), [luvemishacollins](http://luvemishacollins.tumblr.com/), [weartedanditwasawesome](http://weartedanditwasawesome.tumblr.com/), [shaishart](http://shaishart.tumblr.com/), [hydraarill](http://hydraarill.tumblr.com/), and [wolfgaara1](http://wolfgaara1.deviantart.com) (aka: Vic_McFox).
> 
> Because I can't add it below, here is a link to a [sound clip of what fin-kin song sounds like](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/38449193776/livx18-jen-said-she-imagined-the-fin-kin-song). Made by the wonderful [livx18](http://livx18.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten any work, please let me know and I'll add it ASAP._

Dean is sleeping. At least, Castiel hopes he is. He can't confirm without touching Dean's mind and that is something he _can't_ do. It doesn't help that Dean is still mad.

Even after Castiel had managed to clear his head and opened his eyes, Dean had not looked at him again. He and Sam had drained the very small-sea and pushed the empty glass walls out of the room. Sam and Jess had left together, and Dean had changed his clothes, turned the lights off, and gone straight to bed. Now he's laying on his side with his back to the small-sea and the blanket drawn high over his shoulder.

Castiel curls forward, his arms wrapped around his stomach. There is a hurt low in his gut, a sharp and jabbing pain that distracts from the ache in his chest and the silence in his head. He knows that he only hurts because he needs to relieve himself. But Sam didn't leave the bucket hanging from the corner of the small-sea and there are no fish and their bones.

Castiel doesn't want to make a mess in small-sea for the humans to see. It’s not that he’s embarrassed about his body’s functions, because he’s not. Back at home, it’s considered rude to relieve yourself in the presence of others. Here in small-sea, he doesn't have the privacy of the rocks that line the edges of the trench or any sand to bury his discharge under. He doesn't know what the human etiquette for leavings is, and he doesn't want to be accidentally insulting. Castiel has been waiting until the cover of the dimmed lights and hiding his waste with the fish bones, hoping no one notices.

The pain makes him double over again. He wonders if it is because he hasn’t relieved himself in a few days – since the night of Dean’s nightmares. Or if it’s the human food. Dean had said that they weren’t sure if Castiel would be able to properly digest the food and he should have listened better. He should have only tried the meat, or waited until someone brought him fish. But he’d been so _hungry_ , and their food had smelled good and tasted even better.

Castiel grits his teeth against the stabbing hurt and tries to breathe deep, to center himself and rise above the pain. He’s been taught how to ignore pain, to keep soldiering on like a true warrior should. But the wrenching in his gut is different to the burn of a blade across his scales. He feels hot in his skin and presses his side against the cool of the glass. His fins are rippling wildly and the spines of his fans keep spreading and retracting as he tries to focus elsewhere.

He could just reach out to Dean and ask for the bucket. He could even ask Dean to leave the room so he doesn’t have to see what Castiel needs to do. But Castiel doesn’t want to touch Dean’s mind. He _needs_ to distance himself from Dean and all the confusion he brings that makes his head and chest hurt. Another bloom of pain in his stomach is almost enough to make him reconsider and he really hopes it will go away once he relieves himself.

For a moment he uncurls to stretch his back. The speakers and the microphone-box are points of black against the glass that reflects the pale shape of his glow pattern. Castiel pushes away from the back corner and slides along the floor until he can curl up near the box with the button. The reflection of his natural-glow makes it hard to see Dean on his bed and Castiel finds it difficult to summon the focus necessary to force the dimming of his lights so he can better see.

He pushes the button. “Dean?”

Dean’s shoulders twitch and in the shadows Castiel thinks he sees Dean lift and turn his head a little. But he doesn’t move more than that. He says his name again as he presses his hand against another flare of sharp pain. “Dean.”

If anything, Dean’s shoulders hunch more. Castiel hisses, frustrated. He deserves this for forcing Dean out without any kind of explanation, but this is a very bad time for Dean to be stubborn. He won’t be able to hold it in for much longer and though privacy is unnecessary, it is preferred.

“Dean, _please._ ” Castiel curls forward over the throb in his stomach.

The lights flicker on and Castiel groans, covering his eyes. There’s a knocking on the glass and the speakers crackle before Dean’s concerned tones pulse through the water.

“Cas? What’s wrong?”

He looks up and Dean is right there on the other side of the glass, the headset flattening his hair in places. Dean has both hands pressed to the glass and he’s watching Castiel closely, eyes wide with worry. Castiel winces through another jab of pain. He realizes now that it will be difficult to explain what he needs without the kin-connection and Castiel wavers, catching himself just as he touches the first fine tendrils of Dean’s thoughts.

Castiel points toward the bucket by the door. “Please.”

Confusion flickers over Dean’s face and he frowns, but he goes to get it anyway. “You sick?”

“Hurt.” He murmurs through grit teeth.

He’s surprised when Dean turns around sharply and comes back to the glass with quick steps. “You’re _hurt_? Where? How? Do you want me to get Pam?”

Castiel presses his forehead to the glass. Half of Dean’s words are meaningless to him without the kin-connection and this is a very stupid idea to try and communicate without it. But he won’t - he _can’t -_  go back to the comfort of Dean’s mind. The very fact that he can find his calm in the touch of the thoughts of a _two-tails_ is wrong. He doesn’t find the same kind of comfort with Sam. Only Dean. And it’s _wrong_.

It’s only been a handful of hours since he severed his connection with Dean and already there is an empty space in his mind where Dean should be. It’s a separate place from the space where his kin would sing. It’s a place that shouldn’t exist. He doesn’t understand why he’s _craving_ the feel of his mind now. He’s been disconnected from Dean for longer than this before.

He doesn’t want Dean to bring Pamela in. The mention of her only brings up the memory of her kissing Dean and it creates sparks in his blood, white-hot and _angry_. It’s just another thing Castiel doesn’t understand. He didn’t have this feeling when Sam and Jess kissed.

“ _No_ _Pamela_.” Castiel speaks with more vehemence than he needs and he can see the confusion in Dean’s eyes over it. He ignores the questioning look and points at the bucket and to the platform. The bars are closed and Dean will have to open them to give him the bucket. “Please.”

Dean is slow to move, but Castiel is slower. It is difficult to swim when hunched over and holding his stomach. When he finally manages to drag himself up the glass-wall, Dean is waiting and the bars have been raised. Castiel is both horrified and disappointed to find that Dean is holding the bucket well out of reach. He frowns and hooks his arm over the lip of the small-sea, stretching for the handle.

He’ll take the bucket underwater with him and release directly into it. He can tip most of the water out before giving it back. And Castiel is sure if he tells Dean not to look inside, he probably won’t. It’s possible that Sam might. He hasn’t broached the subject of waste disposal yet, but Castiel is almost certain that Sam will ask at some point.

Dean steps back to the edge of the platform. “No.”

Castiel flares his fans in disapproval. “Dean, please.”

“Sure, after the kin-connection is up.” Dean hangs the bucket from one arm and taps his temple. “Kin-connection, Cas.”

He looks away and bites at his bottom lip. Castiel should have expected something like this. But he can’t. He’s still scared of all the emotions that Dean stirs up inside him – emotions he doesn’t understand and things he’s never felt before.  He’s still scared of the brief arousal that had flickered through Dean’s thoughts while they ate. Arousal Dean had felt because of _him_. And Dean had kissed him before. Was it only because Dean had thought Castiel should be kissed at least once? Or was it because Dean was actually attracted to him?

“No.” He shakes his head and folds his tail between him stomach and the glass. Castiel winces at the sharp jolt that sings through his gut as he sinks until he can take a few breaths again. He’s not planning on staying above the water long enough to need to clear his lungs. “Bucket.”

Dean crosses his arms and there’s a stubborn set to his shoulders. “No, Cas. _Kin-connection_. You said you’re hurt and I want to know what’s going on. And guess what – there’s this whole thing where you don’t speak English and I don’t speak Atlantean or whatever the hell you call your language. If you’re sick and something’s hurting you Cas, I need to know. Now set up the damn kin-connection before I climb in there and have to nearly kill myself to get you to do it, _again_.”

He has no idea what Dean is saying and he shakes his head again. “ _Dean_. Bucket. _Please_.” Castiel flexes his fingers toward the bucket in a weak grabbing motion. “Bucket. Dean. Door.”

Dean’s eyes narrow and Castiel can see the muscles of his jaw twitch. He’s grinding his teeth and every line of his body is showing Castiel that Dean is angry again. His arms tense briefly and the bucket slides to his hand. Castiel hisses and ducks, even though Dean throws it at the bars too far to the left for it to even come close to hitting him. The clanging of the bucket hitting the bars echoes in the room, but dies in the boom of the door slamming behind Dean.

Castiel is slow to fill the bucket and it drags heavily in the water as he takes it down to one of the back corners of the small-sea. He keeps his back to the cameras and the room, just in case Dean or anyone else enters. He hopes that Dean is just waiting on the other side of the door. If he left for somewhere else on the boat, it’s possible that Alistair, Gordon, Lilith, or Kubrick, or any number of humans Castiel doesn’t know yet could come in and if they have the dart-gun he won’t be able to defend himself.

He tries not to think about that as he strains to relieve himself. It almost hurts more letting it out than it did to hold it in. There’s a quick burst of panic in his chest when he smells blood in the water and he barely manages to stop himself from checking over his shoulder for any sharks. Of course there wouldn’t be any sharks in the small-sea. He might never see or fight another shark again. But his many seasons of training and his instincts are hard to ignore.

His waste is hard and a different colour than usual, and it’s funny shaped and Castiel is worried. Is this normal when trying new foods? He doesn’t know. He’s never had anything other than fish and the occasional strip of kelp when feeling sick. While he waits for the waste to settle at the bottom of the bucket, Castiel nearly folds in half to check the slit at the top of his sheath. It’s sore and slightly swollen, and he can still smell blood, even though it’s dispersing to quickly for him to see.

At least his stomach doesn’t hurt so much anymore, but it still clenches with phantom remnants of the sharp pain from before. Castiel decides that he’ll ask Sam about it in the morning, to find out if he should be worried or if he’s hurt himself badly. It will be the beginning of the conversation he knows Sam, or Jess, or someone, will eventually want to have. They’re curious about how his body functions and this is just one of the many ways. Although, Castiel isn’t sure if he wants to learn how humans relieve themselves. It’s not a very interesting or attractive topic.

He takes the bucket back to the surface and leaves a few finger-widths of water in the bottom before carefully hanging it on the corner of the small-sea. Castiel takes to swimming in tight, nervous circles under the opening in the bars, moving from the front wall to the back. By the eighth loop, Dean still hasn’t returned and there’s a tight knot of panic swelling in his chest at the possibility that he might not come back again.

Castiel closes the bars, narrowly avoiding having them swing shut on his head, and dives to the microphone. He presses the button. “Dean?”

There’s no answer. He was hoping but he didn’t really expect one. No one had told him if the headset could hear the words from the microphone too, or if it was just the speakers set out in the room. His fins ripple and Castiel tries calling Dean again. He says his name several times, and even calls for Sam, or Jess. No one replies and the door doesn’t open and the small knot of worry is quickly expanding. It’s taking up the room his lungs need and his gills are fluttering wildly with every breath.

The cameras will show Lilith that Castiel is alone. Alistair works with Lilith and if she tells him, Alistair will come and Castiel doesn’t know what else Alistair could do to him but he’s sure that the humans have more tests. They must be done running the tests on his blood by now. And why had he taken Castiel’s scales too? What if Alistair wants to look at samples of Castiel’s fins, or his fans, or his skin? How long until Alistair wants to see _under_ his skin, to see how different his insides are from humans?

Castiel doesn’t have a weapon to fight them with, and their weapons are designed to incapacitate him from a distance. He could easily defeat Alistair if he had to face him in the water, but everything here plays against Castiel and it would take an act of mother-sea for him to be able to win.

He needs to move. He can’t hold still anymore and his fingers keep twitching, his hands starting to shake. Castiel starts with short trips to and from the grey-wall at the back of small-sea, stopping every few rotations to use the microphone to call for any of the few people he’s come to trust. No one comes and his laps start turning into wide circles, following along all the walls.

His panic fluctuates over the hours he spends like this. Some of the time his movements are erratic and he runs into the walls while trying to keep his eye on the door. At other times, he’s almost relaxed enough that he finds himself dozing off until he remembers that anyone who isn’t Dean could come through the door at any moment.

There are several times, during the lonely night, that he finds himself regretting his decision to distance himself from Dean. He has to continuously, almost in a mantra, remind himself that it’s for the best. Castiel can’t get attached to Dean. Dean is human and he is fin-kin. And if they ever manage to free him, Castiel will return to the colony and Dean will stay with Sam and Jess, and Bobby and Pamela – he ignores how that thought causes an unhappy twinge high in his chest.

It’s nice to make friends with the humans and keep the comfort of the kin-connection so the silence doesn’t make him lose his mind. But it’s another thing entirely to get too close. He’s not even sure if he would miss Sam or Jess if they managed to get him back to the sea. But Dean? He’s shared more time with Dean’s mind than anyone else’s on the boat. It feels, for lack of a better word, it feels  _right_ and it surprises him with how quickly Dean has taken to the kin-connection.

The small hand of the clock is close to the peaked number with the sharp lines when Castiel finally stops swimming. He settles into the corner of small-sea farthest from the door and he hugs his tail to his chest.

And he thinks.

Castiel isn’t stupid. He may not understand the chaotic tumble of emotions that ebb and flow in confusing waves, but that’s because he’s never felt them before. He’s never felt the angry-hot burn of jealousy, or the empty-warmth of desire. He doesn’t know the name for everything that keeps pulling him in too many directions at once.

Not for the first time does he wish that he had Anna to explain his feelings to him, like she did when he was a hatchling. He wants to share his emotions and find out why he’s scared that if he lets Dean closer, he won’t be able to let him go. He won’t be able to drop back beneath the waves and sink into the deep and never see Dean again. He wants to know why he keeps dreaming of Dean with scales and fans and fins the colour of his eyes and webbing dotted with flecks like the freckles on his skin.

Would Castiel mind as much, getting closer to Dean, if Dean was a fin-kin? His answer terrifies him. Because if their circumstances were different, if Castiel could take Dean home with him, he thinks he would never let him go. And that is foolish and stupid and every other word Castiel can imagine that can describe what a terrible idea it is to even think of Dean like that.

It’s only been seven days.

But it’s been seven days and he already feels like he knows Dean inside and out. He knows the scars his past has left on him. He knows that Dean would do almost anything for his family. He knows how Dean thinks, and acts, and feels – though most of the time it confuses him because Dean is human and humans are so _different_. They’re so wholly unexpected in so many ways. But Castiel still knows Dean more intimately than anyone probably ever has, or ever will.

And it ignites a selfish, prideful glee that he tries to smother.

Even though it makes his upper lip twitch with the desire to pull back into a snarl, Castiel thinks about Dean’s kiss with Pamela. He doesn’t know why she kissed Dean, or why Dean kissed back. He knows that Sam said that Dean wasn’t in a relationship like Sam is with Jess. And he also knows that Dean is more free with his affections, that he’s been with many people, both female and male. So it’s entirely possible that Dean and Pamela have kissed and done more together before Castiel met Dean.

It makes his throat feel tight to think about that.

It takes too long for him to name that feeling as possession. He doesn’t like thinking of Dean with someone else. And for a brief moment, one that sends a terrifying curl of warmth low into his gut, he entertains the thought of being the one to get to kiss and touch Dean. The instant he realizes what he’s imagining, Castiel shoves the thoughts away with a vicious litany of _wrong_.

Dean is _human_. Castiel is _fin-kin_. He shouldn’t _want_ a human. He should only want a fin-kin. If he wants to be more specific, he should only want a _female_ fin-kin. It’s the biologically logical thing. Even if he knows he doesn’t want a female, and he might never want a female. He wants a male. A _fin-kin_ male. Someone with a tail, and fins. Someone who can reach out to touch his mind without him having to reach first. Someone who knows the songs of the colony and will sing them with him.

Castiel is lonely. He wants his family and his friends and his home. That has to be the only reason he’s getting so attached to Dean. He’s trapped here, in this strange world, and he’s latched himself to the first person to show him kindness. The only person who doesn’t want anything from him. The only person who’s willingly put himself into all sorts of trouble to try and help him and is willing to do it again if it means he can get Castiel home.

Because Dean is _kind_. As he is to everyone. And Castiel is stupid to even think for a second that he’s special to Dean the same way Dean is special to him. Dean shouldn’t even be special. He’s human and he’s keeping Castiel here too. But he’s not. He’s not because he’s going to try and help Castiel escape.

He hisses and presses his face into his scales. His thoughts are going in circles and the tense knot in his chest hasn’t abated. Castiel wants it to go away, just like he wants these feelings that keep revolving around Dean to go away. He wishes he never met Dean and he prays to mother-sea that when the time comes, however long it takes, that he’ll be able to say goodbye.

He won’t be able to take Dean with him. Dean lives on the hard ground above the sea and Castiel lives beneath the waves. Even if he could ignore the differences between them – and it keeps looking more and more like he _can_ – he would never be able to stay with Dean. He needs his kin and he wants to go home. He’ll have to leave Dean and it would be so much harder, so much more painful, to have to leave him if he means more than just a friend. It’s already starting to hurt.

Castiel’s side-fans twitch, catching the soft thud that barely vibrates through the water. He looks up quickly, fans and fins spread aggressively before he even sees who it is. Dean is leaning his forehead against the door. He doesn’t look at Castiel when he puts the headset on the ledge opposite the small-sea, or when he dims the lights. There’s an annoying twinge of disappointment and pain in his chest that Castiel knows he deserves.

Dean stops at the drawers at the end of his bed. Castiel recognizes the clothing he sets out as the ones he wears during the day and it confuses him. Dean shouldn’t be changing his clothes for another few hours. But despite this, Dean still removes his grey pants. He doesn’t even check to see if Castiel is watching when he pulls off the shorts he wears underneath.

Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean made such a big fuss about it before. It’s certainly weird to see what a human looks like under their clothes, but it’s nothing that he thinks deserves him looking away. Dean pulls on a new set of underpants, and a pair of jeans. When he pulls his shirt off, Castiel thinks his heart might have stopped for a few beats. He’s seizing at Dean’s mind before he knows what he’s doing. And he is _angry._

_(Who hurt you?!)_

There are bright red lines, in groups of four or five, that streak the blades of Dean’s shoulders and the curve of his back. The rounded muscles of Dean’s shoulders, between the merge of his neck to the slope of his arm, are peppered with round bruises and Castiel thinks he can see the indents of _teeth_. Someone has bitten and scratched Dean and Castiel will find out who hurt him and he will make them _pay_.

Dean turns so quickly, he almost unbalances himself and has to catch at the corner of the drawers to stop from falling over. He’s holding his old shirt in his hand and the kin-connection is bright and alive with surprise for the few moments before it crumbles under Dean’s own fury and everything from his mind, to his expression, to the way he holds himself hardens.

Castiel can feel Dean drawing away from the link and that is unacceptable. It’s entirely too hypocritical of him, but Castiel doesn’t let go. He strengthens his hold on Dean’s mind to the point where Dean winces and presses the palm of his hand to his temple.

 _(Dean. Who hurt you?)_ He uncurls and it only takes a few quick beats of his tail to swim across the small-sea and press his hands against the glass. Now that he can see Dean’s front, he can see that the bruise-marks cover his chest too and there are scratches near his hips and a few fading lines along his stomach.

Dean is pushing at Castiel’s mind, trying to force him out. He could sever the connection, but he’s not and Castiel doesn’t know why and he doesn’t care. He wants – _needs_ – to know who hurt Dean. He doesn’t care why they hurt him. All that matters is that Dean has these marks and they’re marring his skin and Castiel _hates_ it. Every single one of his thoughts are pouring into the link and he might be smothering anything Dean could be trying to say, but Castiel can’t really hear past the buzzing and the white and the anger.

He jerks back when Dean  throws his shirt at the glass-wall. It’s sufficient enough of a distraction that Castiel loses his grip on the connection and the wall snaps up between them, leaving him with nothing but Dean's presence and none of his thoughts or emotions.

A growl rumbles low in his throat and he slaps the glass. _(Who hurt you? Where did you go? Dean!)_

Dean’s response is the raising of his middle finger as he turns away. Castiel has learned by now that this is considered an insulting gesture. Dean pulls on his other shirt, covering the marks. But not being able to see them doesn’t lessen Castiel’s frustration, his worry, or his upset. He bangs on the glass again, even as Dean climbs into his bed and pulls the blanket back over his shoulders.

_(If you don’t tell me, I’ll just ask Sam or Jess.)_

Dean rolls over and the glare he gives him isn’t lacking in intensity without the flow of emotions through the kin-connection. _(Fuck you, Castiel.)_ It’s the first time since the day they met that Dean uses his full name when addressing him, and it stings. _(You can’t just fuck off on me like you did today without telling me what I did that made you freak out or letting me try and fix it, and then expect me to answer you like it’s your goddamn_ right _to know every little thing that happens to me.)_

It’s still not the answer to the question Castiel wants. _(Who hurt you?)_

 _(You did.)_ He turns over again until it’s his back to Castiel. _(I’m not telling you anything until you explain what happened this afternoon. And I swear to God, Cas, if you close the kin-connection – if you push me away like that again, don’t bother trying to mind-meld with me anymore. Anything you have to say to me after that can just go through Sam or Jess or whoever else you want to talk to.)_

Dean falls silent and Castiel is left stunned and floundering in the wake of his thoughts. He knows Dean can feel the quick flurries of fear that sweep through him at the thought of not being allowed to talk to Dean again. His resolve from earlier to stay away from Dean’s mind is already quickly crumbling and despite the tumult of his reaction to the marks on Dean’s skin, that knot of panic that had been sitting in his chest all night has loosened and all but entirely disappeared.

He doesn’t know what to do. Castiel wants to keep from getting closer to Dean, but he doesn’t want to give up his mind completely. He wants to still be able to talk to Dean, and sit on his bed and lean against him to steal his warmth. He shouldn’t want that but he does. Castiel can understand that if he ever gets back to the ocean, he’ll have to leave Dean. But he can’t accept leaving him when he’s right there on the other side of the glass-wall. When he’s close enough to touch.

Castiel breaks away from the wall and swims straight for the moving bars. They’re heavy and hard to push up without something to brace himself against. He has to fit his arms through the bars and grip the edge of the glass-wall to press up with his shoulders to get them to move high enough that he can get the leverage he needs. By the time they rest angled toward the ceiling, Castiel is already coughing the water from his lungs and working to pull himself over the wall.

 _(What the hell are you doing?)_ Dean is coming around the corner and Castiel can see that he’s irritated, but he can’t feel it and he wants the blockade in the connection gone. _(Christ, Cas, you’re gonna fall and break an arm or something!)_ His hands are warm over Castiel’s shoulders, but they’re pushing him back and he doesn’t want that.

“No.” Castiel hisses, grabbing handfuls of Dean’s shirt. The lip of the small-sea is digging uncomfortably into his stomach. He drags Dean forward, though he doesn’t come easily, until he can slip his arms around his shoulders and press his face against Dean’s neck. _(I want to explain, but not through the glass.)_

Dean’s sigh washes along the edges of his side-fan and it tingles all the way down Castiel’s spine to the tip of his tail. It makes his fins rustle and he half hopes Dean doesn’t realize it’s because of him and thinks it’s only because he’s still trying to wiggle his way over the glass. His arms come up around Castiel’s waist and Dean hesitates.

 _(I think… I’m not sure how to – hold on let’s do this like...)_ Dean drops the barrier and Castiel finds the wash of emotions very relaxing. He’s surprised to find relief in amongst the frustration and confusion, the hurt and the wariness.

An image rises above everything else; the memory of how Dean carried Castiel the first time he was ever outside of small-sea. It takes a little maneuvering, but Castiel manages to lean mostly on one of Dean’s shoulders while Dean tries to pull Castiel over the edge so his tail falls across one arm without losing his balance. More than once, the adipose of his fins gets pinched roughly between the glass and the weight of his tail and Dean apologizes every time Castiel hisses or grunts. Castiel apologizes for how many times he accidentally splashes Dean while trying to help flip his tail over the glass – despite Dean’s many attempts to tell him not to move.

Dean staggers slightly under Castiel’s full weight and he tightens his hold on his shoulders. Castiel clearly pictures Dean’s bed and pushes it through the kin-connection. That’s where he wants to go. It’s the most comfortable place for either of them and even though he’s only been on it once, Castiel really likes the mattress and the warm bedding that smells like Dean.

_(Are you kidding me? That’s all the way on the other side of the room. Can’t you just tell me here?)_

_(No. Not here. I want you to take me to your bed. Please?)_

Dean huffs a small laugh and wry amusement trickles across the kin-connection. Castiel doesn’t understand it and at this point, he doesn’t want to. It could be another Dean-thing, it could be a human-thing. For now, it can wait until after he’s explained to Dean. Even if what he has to explain might not be something Dean wants to hear. Despite all of Castiel’s fears and the hours he spent deliberating tonight, he’s not entirely sure exactly what _Dean_ feels about him.

He knows Dean likes him, and that he’s comfortable enough with Castiel to share painful and important things about his past and his family. He knows that Dean thinks he’s attractive enough – human enough – to kiss or feel arousal over if Castiel does something he finds seductive. He knows that Dean is protective of him. But he doesn’t know if Dean feels the same way about him as he thinks he might for Dean. Will Dean be sad when he leaves?

The spines of his fans flex with worried agitation. What if Dean doesn’t feel the same? What if he’s disgusted that Castiel is even thinking about him like that? Emotional responses and physical responses are entirely different things and if Dean only has physical reactions to him, telling Dean that he’s getting too attached could ruin what fragile pieces of their friendship still remains from this afternoon.

It takes several minutes and many pauses to lean against the small-sea before they reach the bed. Dean drops him on the mattress gracelessly and collapses next to him, legs slung over his tail. Castiel props himself up on his elbows and looks down at Dean as he drapes an arm over his eyes.

_(And I’m going to have to do that to get you back in the damn thing, aren’t I?)_

_(I could crawl over to the platform if you’d prefer.)_

_(Fuck that. The floor is dirty as hell and you’ll get your scales all mussed up. Why’d we have to do this over here again?)_

Castiel dips his head and runs his fingers along the seam at the edge of the pillow. _(I wanted to talk to you without the wall between us – both the physical and the mental one. Your bed is soft, and comfortable. This seemed like the most appropriate location.)_

 _(Thanks for the consideration, I guess.)_ He shifts until Castiel can see his eyes under the shadow of his arm. There’s still so much confusion and hurt floating through the kin-connection, and with it are the bright tendrils of anger and a few wisps of concern. _(So what the hell happened this afternoon?)_

He bites his lip and lays back down, crossing his arms and using them as his own pillow. Castiel stares at the wall instead of looking at Dean and allows the tickle of his nervousness to flow across to the edges of Dean’s mind. It’s a few moments before he supplies the memories of their brief conversation.

 _(Yeah, Cas, I know what I said. What I_ don’t _know is why it made you hate me.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he looks at Dean sharply. _(I don’t_ hate _you! I was just…)_ He groans and buries his face in his arms. _(This is very difficult to explain.)_

_(Try me.)_

His tail is still under Dean’s legs and the end is hanging over the edge of the bed. The tip of it is touching the floor and Castiel drags it in small circles, his fins rustle with every movement. He struggles to find the right words, or the right place to start and he’s not sure where to begin and he’s terrified it will only push Dean away. He wants to stay where they are. If they move forward, if they become more when everything Castiel knows says they shouldn’t… He sees nothing but pain down that path. And to lose Dean’s friendship when it’s one of the few oases he has here, would be a whole different kind of pain.

_(Do you find me attractive?)_

The startled surprise that overtakes all of Dean’s thoughts is enough to tell Castiel that out of everything he could have said, that wasn’t one of the things Dean was expecting. He can feel the brush of Dean’s arm against his shoulder as he lowers it to his chest, and the pillow under his elbow shifts as if Dean is turning his head. Castiel doesn’t dare look to check.

_(Do I find you… what?)_

_(… Attractive?)_

_(Where is this even-)_

_(Please, just answer.)_

There’s a rustling sound and when Castiel peeks, Dean is running his other hand through his hair. _(I’ve already told you that if we ignore your fish-bits that you’re pretty cute by human standards. So yeah, I do think you’re attractive. Why?)_

_(If it wasn’t because I don’t think it’ll happen again, if it was because you wanted to… Would you kiss me again?)_

The anger is gone from Dean’s mind and all that is left are flashes of confusion, concern and a slowly growing sense of understanding. He looks at Castiel and he stares back steadily. _(Do you… do you_ want _me to kiss you again?)_

 _(I don’t know.)_ Castiel is truthful in his answer. He thinks that the last kiss felt nice, but it was the reason Lilith got angry and put the tracking tag in his back. Even if she gave her permission for him and Dean to do it again, Castiel doesn’t want to do anything that might make her do other things that will hurt him or Dean. But at the same time he does want to try again, but he doesn’t because further contact like that with Dean might only aggravate these budding feelings of his.

He takes the jumble of his emotions and thoughts and pushes them at Dean. It takes several minutes before Dean sorts through them all and his answer is nothing more than a short “Oh.” and many more moments of silence. Dean’s mind is surprisingly quiet, and when Castiel reaches through the connection to check, he finds no walls hiding anything and it’s just merely Dean shocked into a numb silence.

It makes him nervous and he is entirely too relieved at the first hesitant return of Dean’s thoughts. _(Okay… Let’s toss this up a bit. Do_ you _find_ me _attractive?)_

_(If you were a fin-kin?)_

_(Yeah, sure. If you took away my human-bits and I was a fin-kin.)_

_(A fin-kin who just admitted to being attracted to me?)_

_(Yes, Cas.)_

_(If that were the case, then I would very much like to mate with you.)_

Dean snorts and covers his face with his arm again. His chest keeps jerking in little jumps and Castiel doesn’t know what’s happening until he realizes that it’s amusement running along the edges of the connection and that Dean is _laughing_. He frowns and flicks at him through their link. _(I don’t see what’s so funny.)_

 _(Cas, you just admitted to wanting to have sex with me not even fifteen minutes after telling me to take you to my bed.)_ Dean makes the snorting noise again and this time he actually laughs out loud in little rolling rumbles that are pleasing to listen to. But when Castiel doesn’t reciprocate his amusement, he looks out at him from under his arm. _(You… you do know what that means don’t you?)_

_(No.)_

_(Oh.)_ His delight ebbs slightly and he lowers his arms. _(Well, for the record, we usually have sex in our beds. And asking someone to ‘take you to their bed’ is kind of a euphemism for saying you’re ready to sleep with them. And by ‘sleep’, I don’t mean the restful kind, Cas.)_

Castiel can feel the blush spread over his gills and up his cheeks and he wonders if even the webbing and spines of his side-fans are turning red too. He did it _again_. He did something stupidly _human_ that they consider sexual and he didn’t even know it. It’s just like the food incident and the ragged edges of panic are eating at his insides again.

Dean’s fingers press into his hair and it’s surprisingly soothing to have them rub at his scalp. _(Dude, it’s fine. I know you don't mean it that way. And I honestly didn’t even know you might possibly sorta maybe feel that way either. Is that why you freaked earlier? Because I said you were being accidentally sexy?)_

He hums in agreement and rolls his shoulders to press his head up against Dean’s fingers. The rubbing is very pleasing. _(I wasn’t prepared for the idea that you could be sexually attracted to me.)_

_(How come?)_

_(I’m not human, Dean. And you’re not fin-kin. Sexual attraction to a human is as weird to me as it is to be attracted to a dolphin. But at the same time, it’s very different.)_

Dean laughs and the circles his fingertips are inscribing move down the back of his head, dipping along to press behind his side-fans. _(I hope so. I’m way sexier than Flipper.)_

_(Who?)_

_(It’s a – No, never mind.)_ He shakes his head and rolls onto his side to face Castiel. He brings up his other hand and starts massaging up and behind his other side-fan. _(So, I wanna make sure I got this straight. You freaked out earlier because you were having trouble accepting that I could pop a boner at you being accidentally sexy. That sound right?)_

Castiel hums again as a low rumble starts in his chest and it makes Dean smile.

 _(Okay.)_ Dean’s thoughts take a chilled edge and Castiel nearly flinches from them. _(But why did you shut me out? I can understand not wanting me to touch you after that, but you shut out me and Sam and Jess. And you wouldn’t even talk to me long enough to explain the thing with the bucket. Hell, you even told me to_ get out _. So what the fuck was up with that?)_

He regrets that ducking his head pulls him out of reach of the soothing circles of Dean’s fingertips. Castiel rearranges himself until he’s laying on his side, hands tucked under his cheek and he fixes his eyes on the collar of Dean’s shirt instead of his face. He tries not to notice the edge of a red-blue bruise that can just barely be seen on his collarbone.

_(I know that shutting you out was… it was rude and you were hurt by it. I’m sorry.)_

_(Apology accepted, but I still want to know why.)_

_(I want to distance myself from you.)_

Dean pushes up sharply and his emotions are ricocheting between surprise and disbelief, horror and anger. _(Why would you –_ Why _?)_

_(It’ll hurt less to leave you if I don’t get any closer than this.)_

He drops back down, but on his stomach this time, with his face buried in the pillow. _(Cas, man, I… Y’know I’m not looking for anything like what you’re thinking of right now, right? I mean – I only got out of prison a couple months before Sam convinced Lilith to hire me. And I’ve never really been that kinda guy. I tried it – and it was awesome – but it didn’t end up – I’m not really – I mean, I like you well enough but –)_

Castiel presses against the trembling wash of Dean’s rambling. It’s a refreshing turn to be the one having to calm Dean instead of the other way around. _(You misunderstand me, Dean. I like being your friend. This is nice. This is_ safe _. I’m not sure if I could handle being anything else, and that’s not just because of the differences between us.)_

Dean is quiet for several moments before he starts laughing again. But there is no amusement flitting through his mind. There’s just a confusing flicker of disappointment that smolders beneath a roll of gratitude. _(When I first saw you, I really didn’t think we’d ever end up having the ‘should we stay friends’ conversation.)_

_(Mmm. Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for earlier?)_

_(Yeah, I guess. Except I don’t understand the thing about the bucket and kicking me out of the room.)_

_(I was not having a favourable reaction to your food.)_ Castiel twists up until he can look down at his sheath. The swelling around the slit has long since gone down and there’s a slight ache, but nothing near the pain from earlier. _(I don’t know human etiquette, but since I haven’t seen how you relieve yourself, I assume you do it in privacy. I didn’t want you to feel awkward.)_

Dean lifts his head and he stares at him for a few moments before dissolving into a laughter that is more gasps and hiccupping coughs and snorts than it is actual laughter. _(Oh my God, you were going poop! I got all pissed off because you wanted me out and it was just so you could take a shit! That’s… that’s the funniest reason I’ve ever had angry sex over.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he hides the sudden rush of those nameless emotions, the dark and ugly ones he doesn’t like feeling that make his head feel too full and too empty while his chest burns and his insides freeze. _(What?)_

His laughter dies off quickly and Dean looks up at Castiel with an expression he’s seen on warriors of lower ranks who’ve been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Castiel can feel his hesitancy to answer, but Dean still tugs at the collar of his shirt and bares a few of the bruises. _(Do you know what these are?)_

 _(No. And I still want to know who attacked you.)_ Castiel brushes a finger against one of the bruises, but quickly pulls his hand away when Dean twitches back. _(Do they hurt?)_

_(I wasn’t attacked, Cas. And these don’t hurt. They’re called ‘hickeys’. It’s a… uh, a ‘sucking kiss’, I guess. Pam can kinda get a little rough if I let her, she bites and scratches a lot and I was angry so… It seemed like a good idea at the time, since she’d offered earlier. It helped me blow off steam.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins are rippling and he presses them down against his tail with his hands as he wills his fans not to move. He didn’t want Pamela to kiss Dean again, but his actions had driven Dean into more than just kisses. It makes his stomach churn and another lump rises in his throat. He’s almost scared by the sudden, vicious _anger_ at not only himself, but at Pamela too.

He’s not expecting or prepared for the hand that grabs his shoulder and pulls his down until he’s on his side again and facing Dean. Dean’s expression is hard, but his thoughts are worried and they’re breaking in waves against the wall Castiel is hiding behind. _(Don’t do that. Don’t hide yourself like that from me.)_

Castiel closes his eyes and turns his face into the pillow. The scent of Dean is almost overwhelming, but it helps to calm the storm raging in his head. _(You do it all the time.)_

_(Yeah, well, I’m usually hiding private sexy thoughts. But judging by your face, I’m thinking you’re not thinking sexy thoughts. Unless that’s your thinking-sexy-thoughts face, in which case you might want to try for a different one coz’ that looks more like you’re ready to maim someone instead.)_

_(That is an astute observation. You’re correct in assuming that I am not thinking of pleasant things. I don’t know what to call these, but I don’t like them.)_

_(Let me see. If I can name them, maybe you won’t feel so bad?)_ Dean is close, very close. He huffs a short laugh again, and he’s near enough that the air rushes over Castiel’s gills. It makes him shiver and he tucks his hands under the pillow.

It’s a few moments of deliberating before he drops the wall and lets his emotions through one at a time for Dean to touch. He knows that it’s a terrible idea to keep sharing more of himself with Dean. The more he lets him in, the harder it’s going to be to stay friends and the harder it’s going to be to _leave_.

 _(All I’m seeing here is jealousy.)_ Dean brushes his touch over the emotions, sorting through them. _(Different kinds of it, but it basically boils down to jealousy and envy. You really don’t like that I had sex with Pam, do you?)_

He shakes his head and withdraws those thoughts from the kin-connection. He shoves them back behind the wall and tries to ignore that they even exist and he hopes Dean won’t talk about it anymore either. Now that he knows what it is, he’s ashamed to even be feeling them. Worse still for letting Dean know.

Dean is radiating warmth and it’s taking all of Castiel’s will power not to wrap himself around him and cover Pamela’s marks with his own. He’s never wanted to brand anyone before, and it’s a frightening thought that makes him tremble. He shouldn’t want to mark Dean, not after how they’ve decided to try and stay as they are.

 _(Are you cold?)_  Dean draws away, taking his heat with him and Castiel stifles a whine before it even reaches his tongue.

Castiel cries out in surprise when the pull of the blanket suddenly drags him halfway across the bed. Dean keeps laughing and smiling and apologizing as he works it out from underneath his tail before he covers Castiel with it. He leaves a note on a chair by the door and explains that it’s for Sam to wake them when he arrives in a few hours.

_(That way, if we fall asleep, we won’t sleep through you drying out completely. I don’t want you dying on me just coz’ we ended up snuggling or something. ‘Death by cuddles’ isn’t a very warrior-ish way to go.)_

_(Wouldn’t it be better for me to go to sleep in small-sea?)_ Even as he asks, Castiel burrows deep under the blanket, pulling his tail up under the cover. It’s warm and everything smells like Dean. The only point of cold is the collar still rubbing at his skin around his neck. _(I believe this is counterproductive to our decision not to take our friendship further.)_

 _(Yeah, well, we’re special friends – but not the special kind of friends that are fuck buddies. We can be, uh, cuddle buddies. And if you tell Sam I said that, I swear to God I won’t ever let you cuddle with me again.)_ Dean is trying to glare at him as he climbs under the blankets, but a smile keeps pulling at the corner of his mouth. _(Now I don’t know about you, but I could use a couple hours sleep. And Jess promised they’d bring their easiest books so we can start teaching you to read.)_

Castiel stifles a yawn and he doesn’t complain when Dean puts an arm around his shoulders or when he pulls him up against his side. He doesn’t think twice about weaving his tail between his legs or wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. He’s already half asleep by the time he presses his nose up under his jaw. Lips brush his forehead and he thinks he might hear Dean tell him to sleep well, but he’s too comfortable and warm to even notice the other voices in the back of his head – the ones that sound like Lucifer, Michael, Raphael and Uriel – that tell him he’s doing the exact opposite of everything he’d resolved against earlier that day.

He’s too happy to really care.

x

Dean is talking with his throat-voice. Castiel can hear it rumbling under his cheek and above his head. Everything is heat and warmth and _Dean_ and he really can’t find any fault with this moment. He presses closer, tightening his arms and his tail and hoping that Dean doesn’t have to get up to use the washroom again like he did the last time he woke up like this.

 _(Cas, you need to get up now.)_ There’s a bitter tinge to his thoughts that rouses Castiel more than his words do. The hand on his shoulder tightens in a near-painful squeeze. _(And I really hate to say this, but Lilith is here.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and his back-fans catch on the blanket, dragging it aside. The air in the room is much colder than under the blanket and when Castiel lifts his head, he sees Lilith sitting in a chair right next to the bed. She’s propping her chin in her hands, elbows on her knees. Her eyes are wide and she’s grinning in such a way Castiel almost thinks she must be, in some distant way, related to sharks.

“Good morning, Castiel.”

He stares at her and presses his fingers into Dean’s ribs. _(What does she want?)_

_(To talk to you.)_

_(I don’t want to talk to her. Make her go away, Dean.)_

Lilith’s smile drops and Castiel is, for a moment, terrified that she heard his thoughts. Dean shares his quick flash of horror as Lilith leans closer. “I said: Good morning, Castiel.”

 _(Dude, she wants you to talk to her so fucking_ talk to her _. Do it before she brings out the whips and chains or whatever the fuck it is she has for her pets.)_

_(I am not –)_

_(_ Cas. _)_

He can’t help the curl to his upper lip. “Good morning, Lilith.”

She sits back and claps her hands, smiling brightly. “Good boy!”

Castiel pushes himself up, already feeling cold despite still being mostly pressed against Dean. He has to untangle his tail from Dean’s legs and the blanket for Dean to be able to slide further up the bed until he’s sitting with his back to the wall. Lilith pulls the chair closer to the bed and Castiel reflexively leans back, tugging tightly at the connection with Dean for reassurance. His legs are the only barrier between Castiel and Lilith and he really doesn’t want her to kiss him again.

“Today I’m going to start your training.” Lilith’s smile is a mockery of the sweetness she is trying to achieve. “So first things first, you’re going to do your little mind talk thingy with me. Do you understand, Castiel?”

He understands, thanks to Dean’s translation, but he is so vehemently opposed to it that he actually hunches his shoulders, spreads his fans as wide as they will go and hisses. “ _No_.”

Dean winces. _(No, dude, that is so the wrong answer.)_

_(I am not going to touch her mind! I want nothing to do with her thoughts when her actions alone make me sick. You can tell her that, I encourage you to. I’m not going to let her push me around like that.)_

Lilith tilts her head and her predator-smile is back. It doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re wide and just as empty as a shark’s. “It wasn’t a request. It was a command.” She leans even closer, barely a hand-span away. “I know you’re a warrior, so you’ve probably been trained to withstand quite a large bit of pain.”

“Yes.”

“Oh good.” Her voice drops to soft, almost whispering tones and Castiel has to angle his side-fans to catch it in the air. “But I don’t think the _others_ have, do you?”

His eyes immediately turn to Dean. Surprise and hatred and fear blazes bright and painful across Dean’s thoughts. It sears the kin-connection and Castiel has to protect himself against it and the storm of _Sam_ and _Jess_ and _Bobby_ and _Pamela_. He’s looking at Dean, but Dean is staring over Lilith’s shoulder at Jess and Sam and Meg at the computers and microscopes.

_(Oh God, please don’t let her hurt them.)_

It’s not a thought that Castiel thinks he’s meant to hear. It’s almost immediately lost in the whirlpool of worry and fear and rage. Dean’s fingers are clenched so tightly in the sheets that his knuckles are turning white and his hands tremble slightly. He covers one of Dean’s hands with his own and he presses at the vortex tearing at the kin-connection, feeding into it a soothing calm. He’s not going to let Lilith hurt Dean or his loved ones.

Castiel steels himself and erects every blockade between him and Lilith that he can, everything that will keep him from feeling anything beyond the loudest of her thoughts. He reaches out and brushes against her mind.

_(Hello Lilith.)_

__

 


	10. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel has heard this song before, but he’s never been the one to sing it. When he realizes what song it actually is, he’s more than half way through it and his throat seizes around the notes. He stutters to a stop, and he still doesn’t look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, bookmarking and subscribing. I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday!
> 
> Happy Birthday to you, Vicky ♥
> 
> New fanart, fanfic, Q&As, and a porny drabble (by me) over at the [Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) tumblr page!
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: [msmerc](http://msmerc.tumblr.com), [drellga](http://drellga.tumblr.com), [danceswithfriedchick en](http://danceswithfriedchicken.tumblr.com), yenenda, and [annasarticulation](http://annasarticulation.tumblr.com).
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix ASAP!_

It doesn’t take Lilith more than a few attempts before her thoughts are coherent and clear. She takes to speaking in images and what few English words Castiel knows quickly. He can feel her touch against the barriers as she reaches for him and he has to suppress a shudder at the first brush against the very edges of his mind. Lilith frowns and he knows she’s not pleased that he’s keeping her out, but he will _not_ have her in his head.

 _(Castiel.)_ She starts and the force against the walls increases before it withdraws. _(You can keep me out all you like, but you_ will _listen to me. Am I understood?)_

His lips curl and he bares the sharp points of his teeth at her. She only smiles and her eyes flick over to Dean, only for a brief moment – nearly lost in a blink. But Castiel sees it and he chokes back a growl. He wills his fans not to spread in aggression, instead narrowing his side-fans and flattening them in a forced display of submission before he nods. His connection with Dean is practically vibrating with a nervous curiosity. It sings with outrage when Castiel’s fans fold.

 _(And if you even dare to attack my mind – and I_ know _you can – If you try to hurt me, I_ will _have them shoot you again.)_ Lilith tips her head toward the door.

Castiel has to lean around the drawers to see Alistair and Gordon waiting outside the open door. Alistair raises his hand and wiggles his fingers in a wave when he notices that Castiel is looking. His smug smile is in place and he gestures for Gordon to turn around. Gordon waves with the dart-gun. Castiel’s throb of dislike through the kin-connection is matched by Dean.

_(And I’ll let Alistair have you for the rest of the day. He’s got so many other tests he wants to do, Castiel. If it means getting you to listen properly, I have no problem letting him mark you up a bit.)_

Even though he can’t feel any of her emotions, Castiel can still see the images that Lilith pushes at him through the link. A cold dread hardens in the pit of his stomach and his fingers tighten over Dean’s hand at the first few images of knives and needles pressing into his skin and his eyes and cutting away at parts of his webbing. Fear balloons in his chest, pushing at his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

He may be hiding everything from Lilith, but his connection with Dean is still unobstructed. Dean can feel his fear and it’s answered with rage and confusion and the touch of his mind skims over the surface of Castiel’s, attempting to placate his alarm. _(Whatever she’s telling you, it’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let them do anything to you. Just… just mind-whammy her or something. Like you did to me. She won’t be such a bitch when she’s messing up her hair grabbing at her head.)_

Castiel wraps himself in the comfort of Dean’s thoughts, using them to strengthen the walls to keep Lilith out. His only answer is his memory of Gordon waving the dart-gun and Dean brushes it aside with a burst of contempt and anger. Castiel almost flinches, catching himself at the last moment, when Lilith stands and runs her hands over the front of her dress to smooth out non-existent wrinkles.

She crooks her finger at the door. “Alistair, the trolley.”

Dean sits forward and Sam and Jess turn around sharply. Even Meg stops what she’s doing and turns to look at Lilith before all eyes go to the door. For a brief moment, Alistair leaves from the doorway. When he returns, he backs into the room, pulling an arch of metal that is attached to a long, very low ledge mounted on small disks. Castiel draws away from the door, pressing himself into the corner. Dean’s arm comes up and crosses over his chest in a protective barrier between him and Alistair.

“The hell is that for?” Dean asks, looking between Lilith and Alistair and the trolley with narrowed eyes.

Lilith frowns at him, distaste evident in her face. “I’m taking him to my room.”

Castiel hisses and leans into Dean’s side. “No!”

“You can’t –”

“I can do whatever I want. He belongs to me, Dean.” She drags the chair out of the way as Alistair brings the trolley next to the bed. _(Castiel, get on.)_

He shakes his head and flicks the end of his tail over one of Dean’s legs, his caudal fins covering his lap. _(No. I’m not going anywhere without Dean.)_

Lilith rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, Dean can come too. I’ll need someone to push it along anyway.” She moves past Alistair. “Sam, fill a bucket. We’ll need to keep him wet while he’s in my room.” Sam stares at her, jaw slack. “Now, Sam.” His eyes flick from her to Dean. “No, don’t look at him. He’s not in charge here. I gave you an order, now listen to it. Get a bucket and fill it with water.”

Dean squeezes Castiel’s arm where his hand lays across it. “Just do it, Sam. His fins are already getting stiff.”

Castiel looks to him sharply. It’s true that he’s been feeling physically uncomfortable since he woke. His adipose fins aren’t rippling like they would be and his fans creak quietly when he moves them. For Dean to know, to still feel that under everything else that’s happened so far, is surprising and unexpected. The fear in his chest gives way to allow a small warmth.

Sam scrambles to get the bucket, sitting empty by the door. Dean turns to Castiel, eyebrow raised. _(You sure you want to go?)_

 _(No, I don’t want to go. But I’m not taking the chance that she’ll do something to you or the others.)_ Castiel turns to look at the trolley and Alistair leaning on the arch of metal.

Dean huffs and squeezes Castiel’s arm again. _(You don’t have to worry about me, Cas. I can take care of myself. So can Sam. And we’ll both take care of Jess. We’ll be fine. You just need to worry about you.)_

Lilith’s voice is sharp and it makes Castiel’s upper lip curl at the command in it and the clear demand she forces against the walls around his mind. “Castiel.” _(Now.)_

With another squeeze to his arm, Dean stands. He leans back over and he puts his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Castiel hooks his tail over the side of the bed and flexes the muscles, pulling himself to the edge as Dean lifts him with his arms around his waist. Alistair holds the trolley in place while Dean lowers him onto it. Castiel refuses to turn around and sit comfortably with his back to one of the poles of metal until Alistair backs away.

“Sam, can you help him, uh, wet his tail while I get changed?” Dean looks up at Sam briefly as he approaches with the bucket of water. He helps Castiel arrange himself on the trolley, taking special care to tuck his fins away from the edge. _(Don’t let those get caught under the wheels. It’ll hurt like a son of a bitch and it could rip them.)_

Dean is already wearing his jeans and a t-shirt. While he puts on his shoes and another open shirt over hit t-shirt, Sam puts the bucket in the middle of the trolley. Castiel shifts to curl his tail around it so it won’t fall off. He cups his hands and dips them into the bucket, scooping out water to dribble over his scales and fins. Jess brings Sam a very-small-bucket that he uses to pour water over Castiel’s back-fans and side-fans.

The water is cool and refreshing and Castiel didn’t realize how much he missed it. He’d much rather go back into the small-sea than go to Lilith’s room for this ‘training’. Castiel doesn’t even know what to expect and Dean has nothing to offer when he asks. Dean knows much less about what Lilith does with her pets than Sam does.

“Thanks, Sam. We’ll be back later, I guess.” Dean comes up behind the trolley and he places a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.

Sam sends them both a worried look as he steps away. He leaves the very-small-bucket floating in the big-bucket. Castiel moves until he can loop one arm around the pole of the metal-arch and he clings to it with both hands in a white-knuckled grip as it lurches backwards. Dean’s thoughts are apologetic as he pulls it back and around so that they’re facing the door.

“Finally.” Lilith steps in front of them. “Follow me and keep up. There’s a lot I want to go over with him today.”

Her grin is shark-like again and Castiel flares his side-fans at it. She’s letting Dean translate her words through Castiel’s connection with him, and he doesn’t want to know why she wouldn’t translate herself. He thinks it might be because she doesn’t want him to know what his training will entail just yet and he hates her for it.

 _(You and me both, Cas.)_ Dean’s thoughts are a balm to the seething dislike that’s turning Castiel’s mind into a tempest. _(Now hold on tight.)_

For the first time since he was brought here, Castiel gets to see outside the room. The hallway just beyond the door is bland. It’s wide enough for at least two trolleys to be pushed side-by-side with room to spare, but the walls are grey, the doors are grey, and even the bubbles of light on the ceiling are ringed with grey. It’s boring.

To the left, the hallway extends to include three other doors. Dean shows him, with memories, that behind one door, the one on the same wall as the small-sea room, is where Alistair and Gordon have been doing their own research and watching the video-feed from the cameras in the room.

The second door is on the wall that makes up the end of the hall. Dean says that door opens to a set of ‘stairs’ that lead up and down.  The floors below are where the crew bunks are and under that are the big machines that keep the boat moving. The door on the right, opposite Alistair’s work room, is a storage room where they keep the moveable very-small-sea, the pump, and other things they need to maintain the small-sea and take care of Castiel.

Lilith goes to the right and Dean turns the trolley to follow. There are two more doors to the right. One is on the opposite wall from the small-sea room. Dean says that is another research room full of bigger machines that Castiel doesn’t care enough to be want to hear about at the moment.

 _(And let’s hope you never have to see inside it. That’s where they’d run the other tests that Alistair wants to do. It’s where the x-ray machine is kept.)_ Dean’s fingers ghost over the top of Castiel’s head, pushing gently through his hair once before the reassuring touch is gone.

The last door is set in the corner of the hall on the same side as the small-sea room. It’s twice as wide as all the other doors Castiel has seen so far and it has bars of crisscrossing metal in front of it. Lilith pulls her card out of the front of her dress. It’s hanging around her neck on a brightly coloured string. She passes it over a sensor and Castiel hears a faint click. Alistair curls his fingers into the bars and pulls them to the side. They fold into each other until the door is uncovered.

There is no handle on these doors and Castiel wonders how Lilith is going to open it without them. He watches attentively when she pushes at a piece of the wall and a small square lights up. There is a line with a peak drawn on the square. Beneath the light-square is another unlit square that is the mirror opposite as the one above.

A few moments later, the light blinks out and Castiel looks about wildly at a high pitched ring of sound. Dean runs his fingers through the back of his hair again in a physical copy of the calm brush against the edges of his mind.

_(It’s just telling us the elevator is here. It’s like… a moving platform, I guess. It’s going to take us up to the main deck level. Lilith’s rooms aren’t accessible from here.)_

The line in the center of the door widens into a crack, separating it into two halves that slide away into the walls. Castiel tries to get a good look at the hollow walls when Dean pushes the trolley into the elevator. It’s a cramped room with a ridge half-way up the wall. Everything below the ridge is a darker grey than the walls in the hall. Above the ridge are mirrors. Lilith and Alistair and Gordon step in after them and the door slides shut again.

Lilith pushes another little square on the wall and it lights up too. There are three others and each one has a number on it. There are small circles with numbers on them, four in total, above the door. Only one lights up before the ringing noise sounds again. When the door opens, there are bars blocking the way. Lilith passes her card over another sensor and Alistair pushes them aside.

They step out into a small room with white walls and one door. Gordon heads for the door first, but Castiel is distracted by the grim anticipation twisting from Dean’s mind. He doesn’t answer Castiel’s questioning touch and when he looks back up at him, Dean is staring straight at the door and his knuckles are white over his hold on the metal-arch.

Castiel understands why when the door opens. The rush of air through it is cool and salty and even though he’s never smelled it above water, Castiel knows – with a sharp, longing pang in his chest – that he’s smelling the ocean. He sits forward eagerly on the trolley as Lilith leads the way through the door and out onto the deck.

The touch of Lilith’s thoughts against the wall startles him. _(Pity about that chip in your back. If you didn’t have it, now would be the perfect time for Dean to try that escape he’s planning for you. He could just pick you right up and toss you over the railings.)_

His fans flare in surprise and he looks up at her with wide eyes. She’s smiling at him with a false serenity, but her eyes are knowing and amused. The dread that’s been curling in his stomach since he woke up is growing.

She _knows_.

_(Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s obvious that he likes you and I’ve checked out enough about his background to know that he’ll do just about anything for the people he cares about. It’s not the biggest leap to figure out that he’ll eventually try to free you.)_

Castiel slumps back against the pole of the metal-arch and he squeezes his eyes closed. As much as he desires to see the blue waters of the sea again, he doesn’t think he can stomach seeing it – being so close to his freedom – and not being able to have it. He can taste the sea in the air. It’s so close, but it feels just as far as it did when he was in the small-sea.

This growing sense of dread and disappointment, this hatred and the beginning curls of acceptance, it all adds up into the crushing weight of despair and even Dean’s attempts to buoy his mind with his own aren’t doing any good.

_(Don’t worry, Cas. Even if she knows we’ll still get you out.)_

His optimism is unfounded and Castiel just rests his temple against the metal pole. He keeps his back to the sea and his eyes closed. He’s tired of the boat outside the small-sea room. If he can’t be in the ocean, he would rather just return to that room. He wants to let the water of the small-sea rush through his gills, to float and close his eyes and pretend, even if just for a moment, that he’s back in the ocean.

Castiel hears the beeps and clicks and groans of a few more doors before Dean finally stops pushing the trolley completely. The room they are in, the room Castiel doesn’t want to open his eyes and see, smells overwhelmingly like Lilith. It’s a disgusting, cloying scent that tickles his nose and burns his throat with every inhale.

He jerks in surprise and a startled hiss passes through his teeth at the first cool splash of water on his scales. Castiel opens his eyes to Dean kneeling next to the trolley and carefully pouring a very-small-bucketful of water over his fins. When Dean moves behind him, it takes a small push at his shoulders to get him to lean forward so he can wet his back fans too. Dean uses his fingers to apply the water to his side-fans.

Lilith is leaning over an ornately carved ledge made of a dark brown material Castiel doesn’t know. It’s set to one side of the room, but it’s not against the wall like all the ledges Castiel has seen before. It’s like a table, but at the same time he doesn’t think that’s the right word for it. This room is much more colourful than everything else that Castiel has seen before, decorated in bright reds and oranges, and it’s much bigger than the small-sea room. Easily twice, if not three times wider in all directions. He doesn’t have names for most of the items spaced around the floor or against the walls.

Lilith holds out a piece of paper that she picks up off the ledge. “Alistair, take this and get the items on the list. You have five minutes.”

He takes the paper and leaves through a much more extravagant double-door than the elevator had. It’s made of the same kind of dark-brown material as the ledge and it has intricate designs all over it.

“Dean, move Castiel onto one of the ottoman. Gordon, watch them. If they try anything funny, tranq them both. I’ll be right back.”

Gordon grins and he taps the dart-gun against his forehead. “Yes ma’am.”

Dean glares at Lilith’s back as she leaves through a different door on the opposite side of the room from the big-door that Alistair left. The one she uses is normal-sized and not as nice to look at. He leaves Castiel on the trolley to drag over a thick, round thing that looks like a chair with no back, no stem, no wheels, and is covered in a thick pillow.

He moves the bucket to the floor and out of the way before he crouches next to the trolley. _(Alright, Cas, let’s do this.)_

For a moment, Castiel wants to say ‘no’. He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to touch Dean and his addicting heat. He doesn’t want to go back to small-sea, or take the path to it that will lead past the real-sea. He wants to do nothing more than curl up and hide under his fins until the humans and their terrifying world just disappear.

 _(Hey, don’t do that.)_ Dean reaches out and his hand is almost too warm against the side of his neck and over his gills. _(Don’t go giving up hope. We’ll figure something out – whether Lilith knows or not – and we’ll get you out of here. I promised, didn’t I? Her knowing isn’t anything to get depressed over. We’ve got Sammy on our side and he’s a genius. Jess is pretty damn smart too. So you gotta stay with us okay? Don’t give up.)_

Castiel leans into the touch, sliding forward until his forehead is resting on Dean’s shoulder. He appreciates Dean’s efforts, even though he can feel a few tendrils of doubt eddying under the surface of Dean’s thoughts. But it’s not enough to raise his hopes much, if at all.

Dean’s sigh ruffles over his side-fan as he lifts Castiel’s arms and lays them over his shoulders. Castiel twists his fingers into the back of his shirt. It takes a little maneuvering, with no help from Castiel, for Dean to get one hand under his tail and another around his waist. He slides Castiel from the trolley and lifts him into his lap before he attempts standing. Castiel only tightens his hold on his shoulders when he starts to slip low in his arms.

“What the hell is wrong with it?”

They both look in surprise over to Gordon, Castiel having to tilt his face up from Dean’s shoulder to see over it. Gordon is leaning against the not-table-ledge with his arms crossed over his chest and he keeps tapping the dart-gun against his side.

Dean’s dislike for him pulses bright and hard through the kin-connection. “What the fuck do you think would happen after showing _him_ the ocean? He’s _depressed_ , you colossal asshat. If you were any kind of a decent human being, you’d let _him_ go.”

“No can do. I’m getting paid the big bucks to study _it_ and make sure the boss gets to keep _it_.”

Dean staggers the few steps to the ‘ottoman’ and he’s careful with putting Castiel down. It is plush and it feels like he is sitting on a pillow. Castiel curls his tail around the base and when Dean steps away he drops his hands into his lap. He lowers his head and doesn’t look at anything else but the pale lines of his fingers against the black of his scales.

“How can you say that when you’ve seen him, when you’ve _heard_ him? Cas can talk, laugh, cry. He feels the same things as we do. He’s just as human as you or me.” Dean’s voice turns bitter and cold. “If he wasn’t a mermaid – if he looked just like us – would you still keep him locked up like this for _money_?”

“Probably. I don’t think you know quite how much Lilith is paying me. I’m not just brains and a pretty face, Winchester. I’ve got a specific skill set that she very much wanted to have protecting her property.” Gordon’s words turn harsh too. “Not all of us have siblings lucky enough to get a full ride to college.”

“Yeah? And what would your ‘siblings’ think about how you guys have basically kidnapped a person to keep in a cage the rest of their life?” Dean moves the trolley off to one side of the room and brings the bucket closer to where Castiel is sitting before he kneels in front of him.

Castiel lifts his head enough to see Gordon and the scowl pulling at his mouth. “She doesn’t have to know what I do to get the money for her to have a chance at a decent education. Besides, you’re making a big mistake thinking that _thing_ is a _person_. Persons are _human beings_ , Winchester. From where I’m standing, that creature doesn’t look human to me. You let it into your head and who knows what kind of hoodoo mer-crap it’s done to you to make you think it’s okay to do all the shit you’ve done so far.” The frown pulls into a sneer and such intense disgust fills Gordon’s face that Castiel has to look away. “I saw the tapes, Winchester. I knew you had low standards, but Jesus Christ, you _kissed_ it. And how many times have you let it sleep in your bed now? You planning on fucking it too?”

Castiel flinches at the venom in Gordon’s words. Dean doesn’t translate the last thing he says, but his hands clench into fists over the bucket and Castiel can see them shake and the tips of his ears are turning red.

“Fuck you, Walker.”

“Not in this or any other life time, Winchester.”

They both fall silent, but Dean’s mind is rippling with a fury that extends beyond the outrage that had been bubbling over his thoughts during his heated conversation with Gordon. Castiel feels a small curiosity concerning what Gordon said that could have this effect on Dean, but he doesn’t ask after it even if he wants to. Dean didn’t translate the last part for a reason and Castiel doesn’t feel like trying to coax it out of him. 

Instead of using the very-small-bucket, Dean cups water in the palm of his hand and lets it drip through his fingers over Castiel’s fins. The repetitive motion from bucket to scales and back is soothing to Dean’s thoughts and they soon ease. Dean starts trying to press hope into the thick gloom blanketing Castiel’s mind. He shoves Dean’s thoughts away and Dean gives a frustrated little noise every time. The intervals between attempts get longer and longer.

Alistair comes back only a few minutes before Lilith does. They’re both carrying things. Lilith has a small box with a curved lid and Alistair has a bowl, a towel, and a white thing that hangs from his arm and makes rustling noises every time he moves. He passes the image of it to Dean, layering it with a mild curiosity.

_(It’s a plastic bag.)_

Lilith puts her box on the extravagant ledge – Dean tells him it’s a ‘desk’ – by Gordon. “Dean, get that end table next to the chaise and put it beside Castiel.”

His hands leave Castiel’s back for a few moments before a small round table is put to his right. Alistair places the bowl – which is full of water – and the towel on it. He turns the plastic-bag over and the items that fall out are all ones Castiel knows. There’s a razor, the can of shaving foam, a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste.

“Good, thank you, Alistair.” Lilith’s feet, in her strapped shoes that reveal her toes, step into view. “You and Gordon can go sit down for now.”

Her fingers are cold when they touch under his chin and Castiel doesn’t fight her when she lifts his face up. She cups his cheeks in her hands and rubs her thumbs over his stubble. “I don’t like his scruff this thick. Dean, I want you to shave him every other day until he can do it himself.” Lilith looks back down at him. _(And you’re going to brush your teeth every morning and evening. You do it when Dean does it. Understand?)_

He nods and Lilith smile is wide. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut when she kisses his forehead. “Good boy. See how much easier everything is when you just listen to me?” He nods again and it earns him a few pats on the top of his head. He dislikesthat, but he doesn’t feel nearly as much as the seething hatred for the action that shudders through the kin-connection from Dean.

When he steps into Lilith’s place and puts another ottoman down, Dean is glaring at him. _(You’re not a fucking_ pet _. Why the hell are you letting her treat you like one?)_

Castiel adverts his eyes, looking back down at his hands. He wants to fight, but if he does then Dean, or Sam, or Jess could be hurt. They could make him sleep and Alistair and his knives would peel back his skin to poke at his insides. There’s so much that he can’t do anything about and everything just feels so… hopeless. How can he possibly explain to Dean that he’s tired of trying to fight Lilith?

He winces when Dean shoves his frustration through the link. _(Dammit, Cas. You can’t give up hope just because a few things have gone to shit. We’ll figure it out – Sammy and I always do. Just trust in us, okay?)_

When he doesn’t respond, Dean’s irritation magnifies and he huffs a heavy breath through his nose. He doesn’t say anything more while he sprays the foam into his hands and rubs it over the stubble on his jaw and cheeks. Castiel rolls his lips together without being asked when Dean spreads it over his upper lip.

Dean isn’t as slow or as careful as he was the first time. His fingers are rough where they touch and when they hold his chin while he drags the razor through the foam. Castiel doesn’t look at him. He knows he’s disappointing Dean right now, but he can’t bring himself to act upon it. Lilith is still pressing at the walls around his mind and there’s so many things at risk that it would be tactically disadvantageous for him to do anything that would upset her.

“There. Clean yourself off.” Dean throws the razor down into the bowl of water and shoves the towel into Castiel’s hands.

The ottoman skids on the floor when he stands up. Castiel wipes at his face and neck with the towel hesitantly. Dean makes a small, annoyed noise and takes the towel back with a quick tug. The fabric is almost painful against his skin when he rubs it over his face, and it catches over the small patches of scales at the base of his side-fans.

Dean hands him the toothbrush and the toothpaste. _(You can do this bit on your own. Spit into the bowl when you’re done.)_

Castiel is careful to squeeze the tube gently so only a little bit of the blue mint-jelly comes out. He catches it on the bristles and he tries to remember what Jess showed him to do. He brings up the memory and mimics it as near as he can. When he’s done and the runny paste is in the bowl and he’s wiped his mouth with the towel, Dean takes the items from the table and Lilith replaces them with her rounded-lid box.

“Go empty that in the bathroom. It’s over there.” Lilith points to a door in the corner.

For the first time since they got to this room, a bright burst of panic flutters in Castiel’s chest. He looks at Dean sharply and his hands curl into fists in his lap. Dean leaving him alone in a room with Lilith, Alistair _and_ Gordon is a combination of some of his biggest fears. Almost immediately, Dean reaches through the kin-connection to smother the fear with a reassuring calm.

“Cas isn’t comfortable being left alone with you guys.”

Lilith frowns and her eyes are narrowed when she looks down at Castiel, the ringlets of her yellow hair falling forward to frame her face. _(Well get used to it. Dean will only be around for another few weeks until we make landfall. After that, he gets to go back to his life and you’ll be taken to your new home. And if you think that he’ll care about what happens to you once he’s not forced to spend all his time with you, you’re sorely mistaken.)_

Castiel’s fan-spines flex and he has to will them not to spread aggressively at the taunt. He glares up at Lilith, baring his teeth slightly. _(If you want us separated so badly, why are you still making him stay in small-sea’s room?)_

Her smile is full of saccharine and almost painfully fake as she cups his cheek again. _(Because, for whatever perverted reason, you like him and you’re more inclined to listen when he’s in the equation. But make no mistake, Castiel –)_ Her fingers tighten and her nails press into his skin. _(By the time we reach home, you’ll be so well trained I won’t have to make threats against him.)_

He pulls away and hisses, his side-fans flaring. It only seems to be more entertaining for her. “Go, Dean. He’ll be fine.”

 _(Cas?)_ Dean asks softly. He’s hesitant and there’s a quiet worry thrumming under his thoughts.

 _(It’s okay. Go. Just…)_ Castiel ruffles his adipose fins in agitation.

Dean brushes a reassuring touch along the edges of his mind. _(I’ll be quick. Anything she says, you just feed it to me too and I’ll be back the moment she tries anything funny.)_

Lilith waits until Dean is in the bathroom before she sits on the ottoman in front of Castiel. She rearranges the folds of her dress before leaning over and opening the box on the table. _(Now, let’s begin your training. Do you know what a ‘party’ is?)_

When he doesn’t respond, she shows him images of many people standing or moving together. There’s the impression of music, and laughter, flashing lights and everyone is drinking funny coloured liquid – like Dean’s whiskey – from different shaped containers. Some are like the very-small-bucket, others are like funnels on stems.

_(They’re like celebrations. You mermaids have celebrations, don’t you?)_

He nods slowly, eyes on the bright flashes of gold and silver he can see her sifting through in the box. Fin-kin do have gatherings, but there’s nothing even close to similar to what Lilith just showed him. They gather to sing songs in celebration of a bonding ceremony, or to mourn the loss of a colony member. And they certainly don’t move together in such close groups with their hips swaying, arms swinging, tails moving.

Amusement trickles through the connection from Dean. _(It’s called ‘dancing’.)_

 _(Well, I like to have parties. I have one at least once a week. That means that hundreds of people are going to be coming to my home to drink and have fun. And you, Castiel, are going to be the main attraction.)_ She pulls out a long, thin length of gold made of interconnecting hoops. Dean calls it a ‘chain’. _(Everyone is going to want to see you and I’m going to train you for how you should act in front of them. Understand?)_

Castiel’s crinkles his nose at the idea. He has no desire to be on display for Lilith or her friends. She prompts him again for his comprehension and his lip twitches with the intention of curling into a sneer. He understands just fine, and he doesn’t like it. Neither does Dean, if his unhappy curse words are anything to go by.

_(Yes, I understand.)_

_(Good! Now, your enclosure is going to have two viewing areas. We’ll be able to see you when you’re swimming, or when you lounge on the rocks or whatever. I don’t care so much what you do in the enclosure, but there are a few rules you are going to follow.)_ Lilith leans forward and Castiel quickly lifts his arms out of the way as she reaches around his waist.

She loops the gold chain around his hips twice before clipping the ends together and rearranging it until it falls over his hips to her satisfaction. It’s not very heavy. One loop is tight against his skin, just above the seam of skin to scales. The other hangs longer, only a few finger widths above his sheath.

Dean’s amusement is more noticeable now. _(She’s totally blinging you up! I bet’cha those are all twenty-four carat, top of the line shit too.)_ Castiel has no idea what any of that means.

Lilith starts listing the rules as she returns to sorting through the box. _(One, you are not to show anyone your teeth. They’re pointy and ugly and I don’t like them. You look much nicer if you keep your mouth shut. Two, if you’ve got business to do, you do it out of sight. I don’t want anyone complaining that they’re seeing you going to the bathroom in front of the guests. And this includes eating. Three, when someone waves, you wave back. Be polite at all times. But, and this is point number four, do_ not _talk to them. You are not allowed to speak or use your telepathy with any of my guests.)_

Castiel hisses, his back fans flaring. _(You’re rules are going to kill me!)_ Immediately he regrets  his words and there is a surprised alarm that sparks brightly from Dean’s side of the kin-connection. There’s the sound of something crashing in the bathroom and a loud curse.

“You better not have broken anything, Winchester!” Lilith calls out before she looks at Castiel and she pulls his hand forward. She has a much shorter chain that she wraps around his right wrist three times before she connects the ends. _(Is that so?)_

She glances over her shoulder when Dean comes out of the bathroom, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, I dropped the bowl.”

Castiel shifts in place when Lilith raises her eyebrows at him expectantly. His fins ripple unhappily. He never had any intention of telling Lilith one of his weaknesses. _(I need a kin-connection. If I go more than a day without contact, I could lose my mind.)_

There’s a stunned silence from Dean and Castiel wonders if he ever told Dean about this. He wonders if Dean knows just how much he’s saved him already.

Lilith is smiling again. _(Well that’s fine. You’ll have me.)_ She looks at the box again and closes it. _(There, don’t you look lovely? I have more pretty things you can wear when you come out for the parties.)_

His shoulders slump. Keeping his sanity through Lilith isn’t a very bright alternative. He would almost prefer the crushing silence and eventual descent into madness over Lilith’s thoughts. He hasn’t even felt any of her emotions yet, and he has no inclination to either. He picks at the chain around his wrist and watches Dean from the corner of his eye as he puts all the items that Alistair brought back into the plastic bag.

 _(Oh yes, another thing. I will have you brought out to sit in among the smaller parties. The ones with only a few dozen guests. I’ve got a special chair for you and everything. When you’re sitting on it, there will be no slouching.)_ Lilith stands and moves to his side.

She presses one hand against his chest and the other in the small of his back until his spine is straight. When she’s satisfied, she rearranges his hands until they’re folded one over the other in his lap. _(This is how I want you to sit when you’re out amongst the company. Do not forget it. And unless someone asks, I want these –)_ She reaches behind him and tugs at the folded webbing between the spines of his back-fans. _(– to be kept folded down. You look less threatening.)_

A soft growl rumbles in his throat, but Castiel nods before she can ask if he understands. Lilith smiles brightly and pats him on the head and runs her fingers through his hair. “Oh, salt water has _ruined_ your hair. We’ll have to try and fix that. We’ll get you shampooed and styled when you’re brought out into the party. We can’t have you sitting around looking like you just washed up on the shore.”

Dean’s derisive snort is covered with a cough. _(Don’t pay any attention to her. You look fine. The way your hair gets kinda curly when it’s drying is cute.)_

Castiel ducks his head a little. A tiny pulse of pleasure curls high in his chest at the compliment.

Lilith wipes her hand on her dress and takes a seat again. _(I want you to sing.)_

His side-fans flare in mild surprise. He hasn’t sung anything since the lullaby for Dean, and before that it was the wrong-song he made right. The colony songs are precious and parts of their heritage. He doesn’t want to share them with Lilith. Castiel opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of what to do. He’s always had the water to carry his tones and he has no idea what his songs will sound like in the air.

Dean comes up next to Lilith, his hands in his pockets. “Is it okay if I take care of his tail while he does that?”

Lilith pushes the ottoman further away to give Dean room and makes a little gesture where she flicks her wrist. Castiel thinks it means Dean has permission. When he kneels next to Castiel again, he uses his hands to scoop up the water and dribble it over his scales. He lets it pool in the folds of Castiel’s fins and he drags his fingers through it, rubbing the water into the delicate webbing. It’s a soft, almost intimate touch and Castiel tries not to shift under it. Dean is being more attentive about keeping his fins damp than he was before.

“Why aren’t you using the cup?” Lilith asks, leaning over his shoulder to watch.

“I get less water on your furniture and floor this way.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that. I’m going to have everything cleaned and that ottoman thrown out anyway. It’s going to reek of fish.”

Lilith can’t see the way Dean’s face scrunches up at her words. _(You don’t smell like fish.)_

_(I wouldn’t consider it an insult if I did.)_

_(But you_ eat _fish.)_

Lilith presses at his mind again. _(Sing, Castiel. Now.)_

Castiel watches as Dean works his way down his tail. _(They swim in the same waters as I do, and they have the same kind of scales as I do. It would only be insulting if she was comparing my intelligence to one.)_ He still doesn’t know what song to sing. The only one that seems right would be the wrong-song. But Lilith might not want to hear that again.

 _(Castiel!)_ Lilith presses hard against the walls around his mind.

Dean huffs a small laugh, one easily missed unless you’re paying attention. He looks up through his lashes at Castiel, a secretive smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.  That small smile sends another curl of warmth to make its home behind his sternum.

When he parts his lips to sing the wrong-song, the song of a fin-kin calling for his family, he isn’t expecting something entirely different to pass over his tongue. He’s halfway through the first few verses when he notices Dean has stopped pouring the water and he’s staring up at him with wide eyes and Castiel isn’t looking away. The notes of this song are softer, more smooth and rounded as they drift from one echoing tone to the other. It doesn’t rise and fall in sharp bursts like the rhythm of the wrong-song.  

Castiel has heard this song before, but he’s never been the one to sing it. When he realizes what song it actually is, he’s more than half way through it and his throat seizes around the notes. He stutters to a stop, and he still doesn't look away.

_(Christ, Cas, that was… Dude, that was beautiful.)_

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know how to feel. All he can do is withdraw behind the walls and keep Dean from feeling everything Castiel is quickly beginning to understand and dread.

That warmth is still pulsing in quick, pleasant waves behind his ribs, but Castiel just sang _that_ song. And it wasn’t for Lilith, it wasn’t for the colony, or even for himself. It was a song for _Dean._ For Dean, who doesn’t hate him for getting attached and being the reason he has to stay in the small-sea room. For Dean, who, after only eight days, worries more for Castiel’s safety than his own and wants him to be happy and free. For Dean, who is attentive, and kind, and interesting, and funny, and accepting of Castiel even though he’s fin-kin and not human. For Dean, who gets frustrated and upset when Castiel breaks the kin-connection, but is quick to forgive and is comforting and warm whenever he needs it.

For _Dean._

His next breath catches in his chest and he covers his mouth with his hand. He squeezes his eyes shut against the sting of tears  and he leans forward until his forehead bumps with Dean’s. The only times Castiel has ever heard that song in the waters of the trench, is when it is sung in a duet; when it announces to the colony that fin-kin have found their bond-mates.

He sang the song for Dean, _to_ Dean. Now he can name that spreading heat in his chest. Mother-sea help him, Castiel thinks he’s falling in love with a two-tails.

 _(Cas? What’s wrong?)_ Dean’s fingers squeeze over his scales where they lay on his tail. _(You’re hiding from me again. Did the song make you homesick?)_

Castiel shakes his head. He can’t tell Dean, can he? He’d already said that these kind of feelings weren’t what he was looking for. Dean doesn’t want anything beyond the physical and that thought _hurts_. When he opens his eyes and Dean’s wide, confused eyes – too green to ever belong to a fin-kin – are _right there_ , he thinks he can feel his heart actually clench because – mother-sea please, no. He’s falling for those eyes and the concern reflecting in them and the kin-connection.

There’s a sharp, painful tug to his hair and Castiel cries out as he’s jerked back, sliding off the side of the ottoman. It only puts all his weight on the hand holding him by his hair. It hurts and he struggles to bunch his tail under him to alleviate the pain, reaching up to grasp at the hand holding him. Dean gives a startled shout and when Castiel looks he hisses Dean’s name. Alistair has Dean on his stomach with his knee in the small of his back and his arms folded up behind him.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch! What the _hell_ , Lilith?!”

“That’s very much what I’d like to be asking, Dean.” Lilith’s voice is coming from behind Castiel and the fingers twist harder in his hair. He doesn’t understand why she’s so angry. “What was that sickeningly _touching_ display just now?”

“I don’t know! Cas gets homesick someti–” Dean cuts off with a grunt when Alistair twists his arm higher up his back.

 _(I wasn’t asking_ him _.)_ Lilith’s words flow around the wall and Castiel scrabbles to find a purchase on her hand and wrist. When his claws cut her skin, she shoves him face first down on the ottoman and presses hard against his back. _(That wasn’t like the other song. The other song was_ sad _. This one was warm. Disgustingly so. You were_ smiling, _Castiel. I want to know what just happened.)_

Dean grunts again and it dissolves into a hiss of pain. Castiel can’t feel the sting of it through the kin-connection, but he can feel Dean’s discomfort and his distress. He snarls against the damp pillowed top of the ottoman, claws tearing into it where he’s trying to get the leverage to push Lilith off.

Alistair is _hurting_ Dean.

_(Answer me, Castiel! What did you just sing to Dean?)_

It’s difficult to lie with the kin-connection, but hidden behind the walls around his mind it’s nearly impossible to tell if his thoughts are falsehoods or not. _(Nothing! It was a lullaby I sang to him before!)_

 _(It sounded nothing like that song either! Don’t you_ ever _lie to me!)_ Lilith presses his head down harder and it’s bending one of his side-fans painful against his head. “Alistair!”

This time, Dean doesn’t make a sound. There’s just a sharp, sickening _crack._ In the kin-connection, Dean is _screaming._

A bright, pulsing red eats away at the edges of Castiel’s vision. He trashes his tail violently, knocking Lilith’s legs from under her. She only falls more heavily against his back and the push against his head bends his neck awkwardly and painfully. The rope of his collar is rubbing painfully over his gills but Castiel doesn’t feel any of it.

He drops the barriers between his mind and Lilith’s. Her thoughts are cold, twisted and burning with anger and coiling with the first trembling tendrils of fear. Every ounce of rage and hatred he has, burning bright and dangerous, he drives all of it into Lilith’s mind as he twists beneath her. Her scream is loud and piercing and she falls away when Castiel pushes up.

Castiel feels the punch to his shoulder when the dart hits, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too far past angry to even care. He reaches out and his fingers close over the rounded-lid box. Alistair ducks out of the way when he throws it and it’s enough of a distraction for Castiel to claw his way over the ottoman. His arms are getting clumsy and his tail feels too heavy, but he still manages to leave four neat red gashes on Alistair’s arm before he’s scrambling out of reach.

There’s a sharp pinch in his side, the hit of another dart maybe, and Castiel ignores it to pull and push himself closer to Dean. His left arms is bent limply and oddly at his side and the lines of his body are blurring the longer Castiel looks at him. Dean’s staring at him with wide eyes and he thinks he might see blood on his lips and tears on his cheeks, but he can’t be sure because the world is spinning and the red is bleeding into a black that’s swallowing everything, even Dean.

It overtakes everything until there isn’t anything left but darkness.


	11. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a desperate noise that sounds too much like Castiel’s name. He whimpers and tilts his head to press a clumsy kiss to what feels like the corner of Dean’s mouth. It doesn’t take even a moment before the direction is corrected and firm lips are pressing hard against his own. Castiel reaches up, pawing blindly at Dean until he can fist his hands in the short strands of his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to Tequila, our 18 year old kitty who won’t be greeting tomorrow with us. She’s been slowly leaving us since noon and I can only hope she passes soon. I’ll always love you football cat. ♥ (This is also the reason for the delay in today’s chapter. I would have been done hours ago, but I’m spending time with my cat during her last moments). 
> 
> New fanart, fanfic, and Q&Asover at the [Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) tumblr page!
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: nerdy-angel-in-the-tardis, happywinterfriends, spn-rants, hydraarill, bethanyromance, and seraphlimonade. (the links weren't working so we go link-less today)
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix ASAP!_

The touch to his arm is tickling. It is the perfect match to the brush of thoughts against the edges of his sleep weary mind. Castiel swats at the fingers tracing the curve of his elbow and he rolls onto his other side.

Amusement dances over his thoughts. _(Cas, c’mon, wake up.)_

 _(No.)_ He folds his arms under his head and tucks his face into them. He curls his tail up and folds the rounded fins at its end over his head to shield out the bright light pressing at his eyelids. _(And dim yourself, it’s annoying.)_

The amusement becomes laughter, a soft chuckle that sweeps over his side-fans and down his spine. A warm body presses against his back, flattening his fans as seeking fingers trip across his hip to spread wide over his stomach. The sweep of a soft tongue precedes a trail of kisses along the back of his neck, following his spine.

_(You’re going to be late for your sentry duty, and you know how Michael feels about that.)_

Castiel groans and rolls over, pressing his nose into the crook of a shoulder and flipping his tail over the jut of a hip. He huffs a thick stream of water through his gills. _(Someone should have thought of that before they kept me up so late.)_

 _(I could say ‘I’m sorry’, if you’d like?)_ The thought is too smug to be anything like apologetic.

 _(But you’re not, so there’s no point.)_ Castiel wiggles closer, trying to ignore the subtle shift of scales against his own as their tails twine together.

Another laugh makes the chest against his shake. _(Personally, I blame my very attractive, very distracting mate.)_

He hums in agreement. _(Pity Michael won’t accept such an excuse.)_

The thoughts turn teasing, amused and teeming with a near tangible fondness. _(If only because he’s jealous he lost this hot piece of tail to his little brother.)_

Castiel squeezes the tail curled around his own and presses his claws warningly against the skin beneath his hands. Of course he isn’t going to deny that his mate – mother-sea, he still can’t believe it, his _mate –_ used to be, and for all intents and purposes still is, the most desired male in the colony. But he’d chosen _him_. Out of everyone, he’s chosen Castiel and that is all the reason in the world to stay on their sleep shelf.

Nothing will happen to the colony if Castiel misses one sentry shift. Michael might not even notice, especially if no one wakes him to mention it. It’s not like he’s on duty tonight. Maybe Michael should be the one to go. He’d make Castiel go if their positions were reversed and he was the one tucked snug against the broad chest of his mate.

Castiel hums again, turning his face until he can feel the flutter of gills against his cheek. The fingers working through his hair are doing the exact opposite of their intention, lulling him deeper into the dark drift of sleep. The rumble of a purr reverberates deep in his chest and he works his arms around his mate, pulling him close.

 _(If you’re not gonna go to your shift, and you’re up anyway…)_ The hand on his hip slips down and behind, to the swell of his tail below the small of his back. It tugs him close enough that he can feel the bulge of another sheath pressed alongside his own.

He smothers a smile into the curve of a clavicle. _(We shouldn’t.)_

A clear burst of disappointment flickers through the kin-connection. _(Why not? Everyone else is still asleep. No one’s going to see us.)_

 _(Someone might.)_ He tilts his head and blindly presses a kiss to the underside of his mate’s jaw. _(And I don’t want anyone to see what you look like when I make you writhe.)_

There’s a hitch in the chest pressed against his own and Castiel grins. He nips softly at the line of his jaw, careful not to break the skin. _(If we were in the rocks, if it was just the two of us…)_ He purposefully rolls his hips in a delicious grind that draws a gasp from his mate. _(I would be more than willing to take you in my hand and worship you with my lips.)_

 _(_ Cas _.)_

Castiel almost laughs at the quiet desperation that sears along the edges of the kin-connection. He _does_ laugh when he’s pushed onto his back, his fans flattened against the rock of their sleep ledge. The buoyed weight of his mate settles over him and Castiel finally opens his eyes. His laughter dies on his tongue and his smile folds into a frown.

Dean’s pleased grin wavers and concern overtakes the arousal that flows freely between them. _(Cas? What’s wrong?)_

_(You’re… not you.)_

His mate looks… He looks _not right_. The Dean above him tilts his head to the side, the spines of his side-fans twitching and narrowing in confusion. The dark of the colony’s trench is making it hard to see the colours of his webbing, or the patch of scales that spreads out from the base of his side-fans to the arc of his cheekbones. Castiel concentrates and brightens his own natural glow until Dean winces and closes his eyes against it.

_(What are you –)_

Castiel pushes at his shoulders, forcing Dean back so he can see the rest of his body. There are pools of colour glowing dimly over the lines of Dean’s ribs, and the edges of his adipose fans ripple with the same subtle green light. The patterns on his scales are angular and jagged and Castiel traces a finger over one of the sharp corners. In the light of his own glow, Dean’s scales are a dark and mottled green.

 _(Cas? You okay?)_ One of Dean’s hands cover his own and the other tucks under his chin, forcing him to look up. _(You’re kind of freaking me out here.)_ Dean’s eyes are dark in the deep, but Castiel can still see the edge of green. They’re full of concern and his brow creases as he worries his bottom lip lightly under the points of his teeth.

Fin-kin don’t have green eyes. And Dean doesn’t look like this. This is… This is _wrong_. This is a Dean he’s only met once, in a dream that was only a few nights ago but feels like forever. This a Dean he didn’t know he was wishing for until today. This is _not_  the Dean he sang the bonding song to.

Castiel grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls his hand away. His fingers flex tightly and he can feel the bones grind under his hand. When Dean winces, he jerks away and turns his stare to his arm. It’s the same arm that Alistair broke when he had Dean pinned to the floor of Lilith’s room. It’s not broken now.

A heavy weight settles uncomfortably in his stomach and his chest squeezes tight, pressing hard against his lungs and heart. This is only a dream. A cruel imagining of his own mind brought on by the poisons of the darts and the events that transpired only moments before the blackness.

The confusion in the kin-connection blooms with surprise and concern. Dean’s hand is on the back of his neck and pulling him forward until their foreheads meet. His eyes are pleading. _(Don’t pull away from me. Please, Cas, tell me what’s wrong? What do you mean that I’m not me?)_

Castiel closes his eyes and shakes his head. He forces Dean out of his mind and shuts the kin-connection between them. It makes Dean’s fingers tighten where they rest against his neck and hip.  Dean growls, a low rumble that gets lost in the waters of the deep. It doesn’t make it off their sleep shelf and Castiel wonders, briefly, if he swam out into the open waters of the trench would he actually find his nest-siblings? Would he find the rest of the colony sleeping in their own hollows? Or would he only find a never ending darkness?

He doesn’t want to wake up. He wants to stay here with this wrong-Dean who is right in all the ways that Castiel should want him. But he can’t stay here. The right-Dean, the Dean that he wants regardless of legs or tail, is hurt. He’s alone in Lilith’s room with Alistair and Gordon and Castiel doesn’t know how long Lilith will be incapacitated by his attack.

Dean makes a desperate noise that sounds too much like Castiel’s name. He whimpers and tilts his head to press a clumsy kiss to what feels like the corner of Dean’s mouth. It doesn’t take even a moment before the direction is corrected and firm lips are pressing hard against his own. Castiel reaches up, pawing blindly at Dean until he can fist his hands in the short strands of his hair.

His chest bumps into his own and Dean’s hands are pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to lay back into the groove of the sleep shelf. The rock doesn’t feel like rock anymore. It’s too smooth and unnatural, like the grey floor of the small-sea on Lilith’s boat. He can feel the questing touch of Dean against his mind and it only brings a tendril of pain to wrap further around his heart. It’s just another reminder that this isn’t real, because the real Dean can’t do that. He can’t reach out to Castiel through the kin-connection when it’s already been closed.

He needs to wake up and get back to the real Dean. But he doesn’t know how to wake up from this too lucid dream, or how to pull himself away from the warm press of wrong-Dean above him. He doesn’t know how and he’s not even sure if he wants to. Wrong-Dean says his name again, whispers it against his mouth with the soft swipe of his tongue against his bottom lip. It’s the same soft touch like from the first kiss right-Dean gave him.

Mother-sea help him, he wants to feel that again. He wants to lick out and taste Dean’s – the real Dean’s – lips, and his skin. He wants to cover all of Pamela’s marks with bruises of his own, and track gentle bites along his shoulders. He wouldn’t leave scratches over Dean’s back, his claws would tear the skin and he never wants to make Dean bleed.

He needs to wake up. He needs to get back to right-Dean before he gets completely pulled under by the slip-slide of wrong-Dean’s lips over his own. Wrong-Dean’s hand traces from his shoulder down to his chest and over his stomach. Castiel hisses against his lips when the questing fingers slide over his sheath, thumb pressing against the opening at its head. The sensation is surprising, but dulled. As if his body knows it’s supposed to feel something at this, but it doesn’t quite know what.

Of course it doesn’t. This is a dream world and he can only dream what he knows. Castiel doesn’t know physical pleasures like the kinds wrong-Dean is trying to give him. He doesn’t know what else to do with lips and tongue. Wrong-Dean is only touching him the way Castiel has thought of touching himself before. But he can’t make him feel what he doesn’t know.

He needs to wake up.

Castiel pushes wrong-Dean away, shoving him back with hands and tail. He beats hard against the wrong-rock of the sleep shelf and half-drags himself to the edge. The confused, almost hurt call of his name nearly makes him stop. But he can’t. If he doesn’t get away now, it’ll be worse when he wakes.

He prays to mother-sea that he won’t remember this.

He swims with his eyes closed, using the click-pops of his echoes to navigate up and out of the trench. The return of his echoes paints a vivid picture of shelves and hollows lining the walls. He can make out the shapes of sleeping fin-kin, but he doesn’t stop. He swims as fast and as hard as his body will allow, streaking passed the shelf where Gabriel would be sleeping.  The sentries he dodges don’t even try to stop him. One of them, he realizes with a hollow thump in his chest, could be Balthazar. He’s moving too fast and the echo-lines are too blurry for him to be sure.

Castiel doesn’t know how to wake himself. He’s never had to do it before. It’s always been an external force or his body rouses itself naturally. How does he force it? How does he wake up and get back to the real world? It’s a world he hates, but it’s the one he needs to be in. It’s where right-Dean could be in worse trouble than when Castiel fell to the darkness of the dart-poison.

He’s too wrapped up in his thoughts that Castiel doesn’t correct his course in time to avoid a cluster of rocks. He swerves to the side, but not enough to avoid the outermost one. It scrapes painfully against his arm and the sudden smell of blood in the water brings him to a sharp and sudden stop. He clutches at the graze, and stares down at the cloud of red around it. He hisses at the sting – but the noise dies before it makes it passed his lips.

The dream world has shifted. Even to his eyes, the blurred lines of the rocks lit by his natural glow are moving. They’re wavering like bright-pearl’s rainbow-arcs at the light-beds. They’re insubstantial objects that fade and twist around his fingers when he reaches for them. He squeezes at the scrape on his arm again and the rocks bend and bow like kelp caught in a current.

Is the answer to waking really as simple as pain?

Castiel doesn’t hesitate to rake his claws down his chest, pressing hard and deep like he’s only ever done in battle to an enemy. It _burns_. He’s blinded by the cloud of red that blossoms in the water and he is sure, if this doesn’t wake him, that this dream world will summon a shark.

It never has the chance to.

He wakes with a violent shudder, opening his eyes only to shut them again against the bright lights. He gasps and breathes deep, slightly surprised to taste stale sea water on his tongue as it rushes through his gills. The crackle of the speakers rouses him completely and he squints.

“Castiel, are you awake?”

The voice is distorted in the water, but he recognizes it as Sam’s. He pushes himself up and it takes several moments for the blobs of colour to become more defined, to sharpen into a familiar face. Sam is sitting on a chair pushed close to the front glass-wall of the small-sea and facing the door. He looks worn and tired, his hair tied back and a dart gun resting in his lap.

Castiel’s head feels like it’s been emptied of his brain and stuffed full of sea-sponge. It’s hard to think. He blinks blearily at Sam a few times before he checks the rest of the room. There is a new bed, squished into the space between the platform and the wall to his left. The spill of yellow hair across the pillow must be Jess, her back to the small-sea.

Dean is laying on his side, facing Castiel. His left arm is thrown out, over the side of the bed, and his elbow to half way up his hand is wrapped in something blue with white edges. There are bruises along his jaw and around his right eye. Seeing Dean, the real Dean, lifts a weight from his chest he hadn’t really realized was there.

Sam says his name again to get his attention. When Castiel looks, he taps at his temple. For a moment, Castiel doesn’t understand what he’s asking. His mind is too wispy, blanketed still with his leftover panic from the dream. His chest has phantom aches where he knows he clawed it open not more than a few minutes ago.

Sam’s thoughts, when Castiel touches them, are just as weary as he looks. He’s careful with the question he brushes against the edges of Sam’s mind. _(What happened?)_

 _(A lot. You and Dean fucked things up royally.)_ There’s a mild annoyance and anger that muscles under the images and words, but Sam seems too tired to feel any more than that. He even stifles a yawn, hand pressing against his mouth.

_(Is Dean okay?)_

Sam nods, but his shoulder lifts in a shrug too. _(Half the time that he’s awake, he’s high on the pain meds Pam gave him. The rest of the time, he’s either sleeping or watching you sleep. All that shit happened yesterday morning. It’s been about a day and a half?)_

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise. He’s been unconscious for that long? So much could have happened and he would have been unable to stop it. Immediately, he twists to check his sides and his chest for any signs that Alistair had taken knives to him.

 _(Don’t worry, you’re fine. Lilith gave the order that nobody is allowed to hurt you.)_ The reassuring calm he feeds into the kin-connection is weak and it’s only a slight balm to the burst of panic still coiling in Castiel’s chest. _(Don’t think that’s a good thing, though. She said it was because she wants to be here when he runs his tests. She’s really not happy with what you did.)_

He bares his teeth, a growl reverberating in his throat. _(She shouldn’t have let Alistair hurt Dean.)_

_(So Gordon wasn’t lying when he said you didn’t fight back until Alistair snapped Dean’s arm?)_

_(It’s true.)_

Something like disbelief, tinged with suspicion, seeps under Sam’s thoughts. _(Jess said it’s against your colony’s code or something for you to attack someone’s mind like that.)_

Castiel bares his teeth again and he slaps the floor with the end of his tail. _(They were_ hurtingDean. _Would you have preferred that I let them continue? If Lilith is fine enough to give orders, then I don’t see the point to your questions. Are you going to tell me what happened afterward or not?)_

 _(Lilith isn’t fine.)_ Sam looks down at the dart-gun in his lap and he starts trailing his fingers over it. _(She passed out after whatever you did, and when she woke up she had a really, intensely bad headache. Worse than a migraine, she said. Pam gave her the strongest painkillers we have on board, the anesthetics we use for the animals that go under the knife, and it didn’t do anything to help. She was airlifted out of here last night.)_

Sam shows him images of a massive metal machine with a bulbous body and long tail. It has thin feet that stick from the bottom of the bulbous part, and above that are four flat blades. In the memory Sam gives him, Lilith is escorted into the bulging body and then the blades start to spin. They spin so fast that they become a blur and the whole thing lifts from the deck of the boat to disappear into the sky. Sam calls it a ‘helicopter’.

_(They took her to a hospital on the mainland with doctors who are actually trained to work on humans. Pam’s specialty is animals, but they’ve got her covering here as a doctor for people too. It’s all kinds of code violation, but she’s getting paid extra and she knows her shit. She went through half of medical school before she decided to be a vet.)_

He rubs his hand over his face and looks back up at Castiel. _(After you passed out, Dean called me. Apparently he re-broke Alistair’s nose when Alistair tried to get at you, and he messed up his arm more getting the gun away from Gordon. Dean swears he almost broke his fist on Gordon’s face. Turns out he had a dislocated shoulder and Alistair snapped his radius and ulna. Those are the two bones that make up your forearm. Speaking of…)_

Sam stands. He keeps the dart-gun in hand and Castiel watches him closely as he goes to Dean’s bed. It barely takes anything to get Dean to roll onto his back. _(He shouldn’t be sleeping on his shoulder like that. It’s bad for it.)_

Castiel reaches out for Dean’s mind, touching the heavy fog of sleep. It’s quiet and dense, different from how Dean’s thoughts usually are when he’s sleeping. _(Will he be okay?)_

 _(It’s not the first time he’s broken a bone. He’ll be fine. Pam’s already starting to wean him off the meds. He was more worried about you getting a double dose of the tranquilizers.)_ Sam returns to his chair.

_(Why do you have the dart-gun?)_

Sam taps his fingers against the weapon. _(In case Alistair or Gordon come in to start a fight. They got in once after Dean and I brought you back here. It was while I took Dean to see Pam and get his arm looked at. We left Jess and Meg here, and I came back to, well, to that.)_ He gestures at Castiel, but it doesn’t explain anything.

 _(To what?)_ He tilts his head to the side, confused. Uneasiness starts to pluck at his ribs.

 _(You haven’t noticed?)_ Sam’s eyebrows rise and a surprised disbelief flickers over his thoughts. He lifts one hand and gestures at his throat.

Castiel mirrors the action. The collar around his neck is different.  It’s not even the same material as before. Instead of rope, he feels the cold touch of metal in small loops. He looks at his wrist and the chain of gold still hanging around it. The metal around his neck feels like a similar shape. He touches along the length of it, hands slipping to the back of his neck.

That’s where the difference is most noticeable. The chain is snug against his neck, but there is another chain attached to it, like the tag that had been on the blue-rope collar. It hangs down his back and now that he knows it’s there, Castiel can feel the cool links laying between his fans. He turns and is surprised to find the chain hanging in the water in front of his face. There’s slack where it loops down before rising up to his collar. But the rest of the chain slithers up to the bars.

 _(That clamp it’s attached to doesn’t move. I’m sorry, but you’re swimming radius is the length of the chain.)_ Sam does sound apologetic, and there are bitter undertones swirling beneath it all. _(Gordon was the one in the tank. He did it while Dean and I were getting his arm set. Jess tried to keep them out, but they forced their way in and they’re damn lucky they didn’t hurt her or I would have –)_ His thoughts stop short and he shakes his head. _(Meg got her out of here before she could piss Alistair off more than he already was. According to Jess, his nose was bleeding all over the place and Gordon’s face was starting to swell up really badly.)_

Castiel wraps his hand around the links and pulls. He snarls and twists, flicking his tail and swimming in tight circles to test the give of the chain. Gradually, he moves out farther and farther until he’s as far as he can reach. With the junction at the back of his neck, he can reach the front glass-wall and the back grey-wall without issue, but he can’t get as close to the side-walls. The only comfortable place to sit is directly beneath it, where nothing is pulling at his neck. He tries laying down and he can feel the tightness around his throat. It’s only just long enough for him to be able to lay directly beneath it.

 _(They don’t want you getting in and out of the tank anymore.)_ Sam shifts, looking away guiltily. _(Lilith made a huge fuss before the helicopter got here. She said you and Dean shouldn’t even be allowed to look at each other anymore.)_

Castiel stops in his inspection of the clamp holding the chain in place on the bar. His heart is starting to beat hard in his chest, thumping in a quick panic. The last thing he wants is to be separated from Dean. He looks toward Sam with what he hopes is only a curious expression. He’s careful and hides his emotions from the kin-connection. If Sam notices, he doesn’t show it. 

_(Why would she say that?)_

_(I dunno, probably something do with how her prize pet is showing all kinds of affection to someone that isn’t her.)_ A knowing, sad smile pulls at the corners of Sam’s mouth for a moment before it vanishes. _(Jess and I are staying in here too now. Not on Lilith’s orders or anything. We’re going to sleep in shifts so that someone is always watching out for Alistair or Gordon, hell even for Azazel. No doubt that rat will come sniffing around soon enough. He always does.)_

Sam gestures up and over his shoulder. _(We disabled the cameras in here so they can’t spy on us and get us at our weakest or something. Meg said she isn’t going to help us, but she isn’t going to help_ them _either. Which is something, I guess.)_

Castiel shrugs and turns his attention back to the clamp. He doesn’t even have the first idea how it works. There’s a little hoop at the bottom of it where the chain connects, but he can’t see how the clamp is staying in place on the bars. There is a seam running down the middle of it and there are two tiny cylinders closer toward each end. When he reaches through the bars to run his fingers over the top of it, he can feel another seam, but instead of two cylinders, there are little round bumps with what feels like grooves dug into their faces.

Sam is quiet while Castiel examines the clamp. It’s only when he pulls away and swims in contemplative circles that he finally speaks again.

_(Lilith has microphones and cameras in her office – that’s the room she took you to – that are linked to the computers. We were hoping we could use the files as evidence against her and the others when we file a lawsuit for how she’s treating this boat like her own private dictatorship.)_

Castiel doesn’t understand half of what he said, the words not translating well into images or emotions. He doesn’t press with questions, too busy thinking about how to get rid of the clamp. And now that he’s seen what the boat is like outside the room, and more specifically he’s seen a quick and easy route to the sea, he can start formulating his own plans.

As much as he likes being in Dean’s company, Castiel can’t stay here with him much longer. He’s already realized that he’s viewing Dean as a potential bond-mate, despite their previous talk and Dean’s reluctance to pursue a relationship like that. And that’s not even touching on the idea of how that could work with him being human and Castiel being fin-kin. It’s a foolish thing to think about to start with and Castiel fully blames the kin-connection and its intimacy for everything he’s feeling.

But even just in thinking in passing of Dean accepting the bonding song sends his heartbeat skittering and warmth starts to pool throughout his torso. If he falls for Dean any more than he already has, he’ll never be able to leave him.

It only further hardens his resolve to escape. Castiel is a strategist. One of the best in the colony. It’s primarily why he was given a garrison of his own. With Sam and Dean helping him and providing him with further knowledge about the boat and its workings, he should be able to devise an escape plan in a relatively soon. With Lilith away, now would be the perfect time.

Sam, apparently, wasn’t done talking. He presses at Castiel’s mind, pulling his attention away from his plans. _(The files weren’t there. The videos, the tapes, all of it was gone. We think it was Azazel, but we can’t be sure. When I asked after it, Gordon said it was routine. They needed the space on the hard-drives for videos of you swimming and whatever other bullshit he said.)_

Castiel allows his annoyance to filter through the barriers still keeping his emotions hidden. _(Sam, I don’t understand your talk about files and videos. Please just get to the point.)_

He shifts in his seat and glances toward Dean’s bed. _(The only thing they left was the recording of the song you sang. I – we – Jess, me and Dean – we listened to it. It was early this morning, and he was pretty out of it still. The pain meds kinda make him more… more_ chatty _.)_ Sam rubs the back of his neck and he won’t look at Castiel. There’s embarrassment creeping along the edges of his thoughts. _(Dean kept calling the song beautiful – and it is, I mean wow, it really is – but he was…)_

Sam starts chewing on his bottom lip and he shifts again. When he looks up, he meets Castiel’s eyes and instead of explaining, he raises up a memory and pushes it through. It’s a memory of Dean draped across his bed, hand raised and drawing random designs in the air. There’s a sloppy, loose smile on his face. Sam and Jess are sitting at the ledge by the computers and the sound of the bonding song is playing throughout the room.

In the memory, Dean keeps saying “Is’such a nice song, don’t’cha think? Is’so nice. Real, real _pretty_.” Jess keeps nodding, but her eyes are closed and she keeps squeezing Sam’s hand. Sam sometimes looks at her, but he’s mostly watching Dean.

Outside the memory, Sam’s cheeks are getting splotchy with red and he’s ducking his head. Castiel forcibly ignores the embarrassment that keeps colouring the memory. He focuses on listening to the words that Dean keeps saying.

“God, guys, y’should’a _seen_ ‘im! All singin’ an’ stuff. Was nice, real nice. The song, y’know? S’pretty beautiful, yeah? And Cas? Oh man, Sammy, Cas was fuckin’ _gorgeous._ Never seen ‘im smile like that all soft an’ almos’ glowin’ – bet’cha he would’a glowed if we turned off th’lights. But his eyes, Sammy. Jesus Christ his _eyes_.” He trails off for a bit and the memory of the song grows brighter, more pronounced above everything else until Dean starts talking again.

“Fuck and you should’a seen ‘im when he got pissed – holy shit, guys. Holy. Shit. So fuckin’ _badass_. Never been so scared and turned on before in m’life – fuckin’ badass, gorgeous son of a bitch – Cas! Hey, hey, Cas!” Memory-Dean rolls over on the bed, almost falling off in the process. He staggers to his feet and starts banging on the glass of small-sea. “Cas, y’gotta wake up an’ show ‘em how _badass_ you were. All protec’in’ me an’ shit.” This memory of Dean sags backwards, barely reaching the bed before he sits. “Protec’in’ me when I’m s’posed t’be protec’in’ ‘im…”

The memory starts to fade when memory-Sam gets up to help memory-Dean back onto the bed properly. Castiel blinks it away and he’s not sure if the burn in his chest is because he might have stopped breathing or because of the magma rolling under his skin from the words that were said. The lava in his chest is a pleasant burn, warm and inviting and it makes him want to smile.

He forcibly pulls himself away from those thoughts with a deep breath when Sam prods at him through the kin-connection. _(Dean gets loose-lipped when he’s loopy on pain meds. I can’t tell you how many times he’s had to take them because of some stupid fight or accident or something. But I’ve learned he’s the most truthful when he’s high off his ass.)_

_(Dean has always been truthful with me.)_

_(Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to lie when you’re in our heads. And it’s not like he has anything to hide from you.)_ Sam shrugs again, slouching in his seat.

 _(He keeps things from you?)_ The idea is nearly inconceivable to him. He’s always shared everything with his nest-brothers and sisters.

_(I didn’t find out Dean was bisexual until after prison. Said he’d known since his teens and that he never knew how to tell me. So, yeah, he keeps things from me. I don’t have the handy trick of reaching into his brain and seeing whatever I want to see.)_

Castiel flares his fans indignantly. _(I don’t do that!)_

 _(I know you don’t. I’m just saying, you’re a whole different species. Dean doesn’t have to lie with you because you don’t know anything about everything our society frowns upon. And, frankly, it frowns upon ninety percent of Dean’s personality.)_ His grin is lopsided and tired. _(He’s practically got a clean slate with you and I think he’s afraid of messing that up. When people find out he went to prison for nearly killing someone in a fight – which isn’t even close to the whole story – everyone immediately labels him as some kind of thug. Alistair mentioned it, and Dean probably mentioned it a bunch too. But you never even asked about it, did you?)_

It’s Castiel’s turn to shrug and he steals a subtle glance toward Dean. _(There was no point. The past is the past, and Dean is Dean. I would never have continued to hold the kin-connection with him if I found even the slightest of hints that he was not a good person.)_

Sam nods, smiling softly for a few moments before it slips into another frown. _(Can I ask you something?)_

_(Of course.)_

_(The first song we heard, you said it was about calling for family. Then we got a recording of a lullaby. What was the song you sang in Lilith’s office?)_ Honest curiosity presses through with the question and Castiel can feel his cheeks heat.

_(It was nothing.)_

_(That sure was a whole lot of nothing that made Lilith wig out and Dean gush like a drunken poet.)_

Castiel looks away, glaring at one of the speakers mounted in the corner of small-sea. He doesn’t want to tell Sam, and not just because he might tell Dean. He doesn’t want to tell Sam because the less people that know, the better. If he’s really pressed to name the notes, he can try and pass it off as a song depicting a warm history of the colony. No one has to know that he was basically proposing to Dean.

He repeats his answer.

Sam presses his curiosity along the edges of Castiel’s mind again before withdrawing. He stifles another yawn and stretches before standing. Castiel watches absently, his thoughts oscillating between Sam’s memory and plans for his escape. It’s a juxtaposition of the two extremes warring inside of him.

Castiel wants to go home. He misses his family, his friends, and the normality that comes with the familiarity of the trench and the routine of the colony. Here, nothing is the same from one day to the next. He’s experienced so much in a little less than ten days and it’s changing him. It scares him. If he doesn’t get out soon, Castiel fears Dean might get deeper under his skin. And if he does… he might not be able to leave him.

His attention focuses more closely on Sam when he gets a familiar two-coloured box from under the table. He leaves the lid on the ledge before carrying it over the middle of the front glass-wall. It’s the easiest place for Castiel to reach and he’s already there and waiting when Sam tilts the box over the edge and the bland gray fish fall through the bars. The glass pieces that Dean called ‘ice’ are floating, spreading out in the rippling waves caused by the splash of dead fish.

_(I figure since it’s been so long since you last ate that you probably don’t want to wait for us to have our dinner later.)_

_(Thank you, Sam.)_

He ignores the fish for the moment, uncurling from the floor to slide up through the water. He floats lazily a few hand-spans below the surface, his adipose fins rippling to keep him aloft. His caudal fans flicks every so often, making sure he stays in line with the ice above his head. The first touch is cold. Colder even than the waters of the deep. He hisses at the freeze-burn on his fingertip and dives again, rolling in a backward summersault until he’s at the floor again.

Using his caudal fans as a scoop, Castiel moves the fish he doesn’t pick up toward the center of the small-sea. He doesn’t want to be annoyed by the chain feeling too tight against his neck while he’s trying to eat. His stomach rumbles appreciatively with the first bite and even though the gray fish is bland and nearly tasteless on his tongue, it’s delicious after not eating for nearly two days.

Sam watches Castiel eat the first fish, amusement tickling the edges of the kin-connection. _(You going to need the bucket again after this?)_ Castiel stops mid-bite and stares up at Sam with wide eyes. It just makes Sam laugh. _(We kind of knew that you were hiding your waste with the bones from your overnight eating. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, so we didn’t say anything. But since Dean told me about what happened, I couldn’t resist poking a little fun, sorry.)_

Castiel resumes eating, flicking his disapproval over Sam’s thoughts. _(I don’t want know what you’ve been doing with it.)_

_(We gave it to Alistair for him to study. Even gave him the sample from after you ate our food.)_

_(I said I didn’t want to know.)_ Castiel sticks out his tongue and makes the rude gesture with his middle finger. It only makes Sam laugh. Desperate for a different topic to talk about while he eats, Castiel pushes the memory of the elevator at Sam. _(Dean told me once that there were many doors between me and the sea. But there are only these and the one in the room at the top.)_

Sam stretches his legs out and slumps further in the chair. _(It’s not that easy. Only Lilith’s card opens the elevator gates. She took it with her when she went to the hospital and, well, Dean or I could probably hack the controls if we had the proper equipment. But there’s no way to get that without someone noticing. Especially with the cameras.)_

He gestures vaguely at the empty corners of the room where the cameras used to be. _(They can’t see in here, but the hallways, the stairwell, all the other rooms are monitored like you wouldn’t believe because Lilith is a paranoid bitch. That’s really the only hitch Dean and I have in our plan. We’ve got no problem with one or both of us carrying you out of here. But Lilith actually has_ guards _posted on deck and the stairwell lets out into the mess hall. And there’s always someone in there.)_

Castiel makes a frustrated noise low in his throat. He might be a little vicious in tearing the skeleton from the fish in his hands. _(I assume the guards work in shifts and on a rotation. Is there no way to get a schedule? There must be one time, maybe at night, when this ‘mess hall’ is empty. Or do you have some way of clearing it?)_

Sam runs his hands through his hair, pulling it from the tie keeping it held back. _(We could pull the fire alarm, but that would bring the guards. And yeah, they have a schedule and set patterns that they walk in, but that’s all locked up in Lilith’s office and we need her key-card to get to it. She doesn’t keep anything like that on a computer where it can be hacked. I told you, she’s really paranoid.)_

_(Can you observe them and write down their schedule yourselves?)_

_(Without being noticed by them or the cameras? Unlikely.)_

Castiel scowls and crunches bones between his teeth. Lilith is a thorn in his side even when she isn’t here and forcing him to behave to keep Dean safe. _(Do you know of a way to get take out the cameras?)_

 _(I’m not even going to get into the technical talk with you, but no, we can’t access them. Not for what you’re thinking.)_ Sam’s smile starts slow. _(But we do have an ace up our sleeve. We’ve got a friend back home that we got a message to. He’s going to try and break into the system. If anyone can manage it, he can. It’s just a little hard to communicate with him without getting ourselves caught.)_

_(How long do you think it will take?)_

Sam’s face scrunches up and indecision flickers briefly as he lifts and folds a few fingers while counting. _(Jess contacted him… I think three days ago? The same day you tried your grand escape attempt. If Ash can get word to us without tipping off anyone, we should know soon. Basically we just need him to get us into the system and then one of us can take it from there. After that, it’s just turning them off and getting you the hell out of here faster than someone can notice that the cameras are down.)_

_(And the guards?)_

He grins and pats the dart-gun in his lap. Confidence, bright and proud, swells through the kin-connection. _(Don’t tell anyone, but Dean and I? We’re damn good shots. Our dad was a soldier and he taught us how to shoot when we were kids. We squirreled away a couple of these yesterday so we’re set on that front.)_

Castiel is impressed. He knew that Dean could fight with his fists, but he had no idea he was trained with weapons too. _(Won’t they have dart-guns, or worse?)_

_(Yeah, but it’s not like we’ve got much choice. We’re got to get you out of here.)_

He falls silent for a few moments, fingers twitching over the mess of bones in his lap. _(You’ll have repercussions to deal with once I’m free. Lilith has made it obvious –)_ Castiel looks pointedly at Dean and the blue-white around his arm. _(– that she isn’t above physical violence. You still have yourself, Dean, and Jess, even Bobby and Pamela to worry about. You’re risking so much for me… Why?)_

 _(Because this, all of this, is_ wrong _.)_ Sam’s mind fills with a swirl of rage as he gestures around them and, more specifically, at Castiel. _(We study animals. Fish and sometimes mammals. You’re neither. I know it’s probably an insult, but you’re practically human and Lilith just wants to_ own you _. It’s wrong. It’s disgusting. And none of us are going to stand for it.)_ His thoughts sober suddenly and fill with a deep, pulsing bitterness. All of it, to Castiel’s surprise, is directed inward. _(God, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret being the one who grabbed you on the reef. If I hadn’t, then you wouldn’t… and Dean wouldn’t be – I’m sorry, Castiel. I’m really, really sorry. I can’t say it enough, but I am.)_

Castiel reaches out to soothe the agitation cascading through the kin-connection. He doesn’t know if capturing him is something he can ever forgive Sam for, but he doesn’t want him to feel such pain lamenting over it. He withdraws the touch the moment Sam jumps to his feet, leveling the dart-gun at the door. His thoughts are taut and focused.

Sam approaches the door slowly. The metal bolt is closed over the doorframe. He presses close to the door and through the kin-connection, Castiel knows that he is asking who is on the other side. The answer is favourable – Bobby, he says. When he steps away and unlocks it, Bobby walks in.  He barely lifts an eyebrow at the weapon pointed behind him and he’s balancing three food containers in his hands. Sam doesn’t lower his arms until the door is closed and locked again, relief washing through the kin-connection.

Bobby puts the containers on the ledge between the computers and when he glances at him, Castiel waves. He gets a brief twist of the fingers as a ‘hello’ before Sam leans down and starts talking to Bobby closely.

After a few moments, Bobby reaches into the front of the jeans that cover his belly and chest. He has to unbuckle one of the straps over his shoulder before he can pull out a long red and black pincer. Castiel thinks it looks like two daggers attached together. It’s easily as long as Sam’s forearm, if not slightly longer. A pleased surprise lights up Sam’s face and sparks through the kin-connection as Bobby hands the item over.

 _(What’s that?)_ Castiel prods at Sam’s thoughts, pulling up the image of the dagger-pincers.

 _(It’s a bolt cutter. We’ll be able to use it to break the chain so you won’t be stuck in the tank. We could get the clamp off with a screwdriver, but you’d still be dragging that chain around.)_ Sam’s bright smile pulls into a teasing grin. _(I know you like sleeping in Dean’s bed.)_

Castiel quickly tucks his emotions behind the walls, careful not to let anything slip to Sam. But he finds it hard to meet his eyes. _(It’s comfortable. We don’t have anything that soft back home.)_

_(And I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with Dean, huh?)_

_(He’s warm. Warmth is not something we have often in the deep.)_ Castiel fidgets with the bones, gathering them one by one into a pile in his lap. _(I don’t understand what you’re trying to insinuate.)_

Sam’s teasing fades into a serious tone that smothers his amusement. Bobby pulls out another item from his high-jeans – a roll of blue – and hands it to him. They speak a little longer before Bobby leaves again. Sam watches him leave with the gun raised again. He tells Castiel it’s just in case someone tries to come in. They don’t want to take any chances.

When the door is shut again, he locks it and turns to find Jess already sitting up and stretching. He gestures at the food and goes to rouse Dean. Castiel watches intently, already skipping his touch along the edges of Dean’s mind. He’s nearly jubilant when Dean’s thoughts become clear. He doesn’t even get the chance to greet him before Dean sits up quickly and almost violently shoves Castiel out of his mind.

For several moments Castiel does nothing but sink slowly to the floor. He twines his fingers into the slack of the chain and he knows he’s staring stupidly at Dean, but Dean isn’t looking at him. He’s looking everywhere but at him. It feels like his ribs are contracting, squeezing too tight over his lungs and his gills aren’t working right. A knot is forming, hard and pulsing with a fluttering kind of panic behind his sternum.

Has he done something to upset Dean? Is he mad because Castiel wasn’t able to protect him? Or because Castiel had been so submissive to Lilith, if only to keep him and the others safe? Had he scared Dean when he’d attacked Lilith and Alistair? Or did Dean figure out what the bonding song was and now he’s avoiding Castiel because that’s so much more than what he wants? But Sam’s memories of the morning had showed the exact opposite. So why is Dean like this now?

 _(Let me talk to him.)_ Sam shushes him through the connection, reaching through to stroke over his mind with calm.

Castiel almost flinches at the touch. He had completely forgotten that he was still connected with Sam. A quick cursory once over reveals that he’s even dropped the walls around his mind. Which means Sam more or less heard his panic attack. Castiel snaps up the walls almost as quickly as Dean shut him out.

He ducks his head, embarrassed and chastising himself for the simple mistake. He’s starting to let himself get too emotional where Dean is  concerned and with his imminent escape, it’s a dangerous thing to do. He needs to have better control of himself. Dean shutting him out should be a _good thing_. Not more than two days ago he was resolving to distance himself from Dean and then… and then what had happened?

He’d fallen for him further.

Mother-sea, give him strength.

He lets go of the chain to hug the fold of his tail to his chest. Castiel rests his chin on his scales and tries to look like he’s not watching the very heated conversation developing between Sam and Dean. Jess seems to be trying to do the same, sitting against the wall on her bed with a container open in her lap and her eyes on the food.

Sam won’t let Dean leave the area where his bed is. He’s standing between the glass-wall and the drawers and Dean can’t squeeze by without actually shoving Sam out of the way. Castiel envies how even as the younger brother Sam manages to appear bigger and more threatening than Dean. If he ever tried to do anything of the sort with his older brothers, the dominant display would likely have ended with a few new tears to his webbing.

Absently, he trails a finger to the hole in the fan by his left hip. It’s smaller than it was a few days ago, but it’s still rather noticeable. If he was vain, he might try to hide it. But Castiel has always worn his wounds with pride. This is a mark of his escape attempt, when he’d managed to surprise the humans and was another reminder that they shouldn’t underestimate him.

To Castiel’s disappointment, Sam is barely translating the conversation. His focus is on Dean and not the kin-connection. He’s concentrating enough that he’s feeding their words through to Castiel’s mind, but the imagery and emotions aren’t fluid or altogether even there. It’s difficult for Castiel to understand and he pays more attention to the words he knows, trying to parse the rest by tone alone.

“You’re going to make him freak out again.”

“He’s not gonna freak out, Sammy. Now lemme by. I’m hungry and Pam says I gotta take those pills on a full stomach.”

“He’s already panicking.”

Dean shakes his head and Castiel thinks he catches a quick glance in his direction. “No, he’s not. Cas is fine.”

Irritation flashes through the kin-connection and Sam draws himself up to his full height, leaning over Dean. “You’re not letting him make the kin-connection, are you? So you don’t actually know what he’s thinking or feeling. You can’t say that he’s not panicking.” He points at Castiel. “Why don’t you look at him and tell me you don’t think he looks worried, Dean? Tell me you think he’s not scared you’re starting to hate him because he didn’t stop them before they hurt you.”

Castiel can see the muscles in Dean’s jaw tighten and his chin sticks out defiantly. He doesn’t follow the direction of Sam’s finger. “I’m hungry and my arm hurts like a son of a bitch. I will break Pam’s nice cast over your ass if you don’t move it. Now, Sam.”

“Is that it? Are you mad because you got hurt?” Sam’s face steels over, a heavy line forming between his eyebrows. “Seriously, Dean? This morning you wouldn’t shut up about how _badass_ he was and now you’re resenting him?”

“Of course I’m not!”

“Then what the _hell_ , Dean?”

He squares his shoulders, but his head turns toward the wall slightly. Castiel can tell that Dean isn’t looking Sam in the face anymore. His voice drops and now Castiel can’t hear the muffled sound of it through the glass. “It’s not what you’re thinking, okay? I’m not mad at Cas. I’m mad at _me._ ”

Sam does translate that and Castiel’s fans flutter in surprise, the spines flexing wildly. What could Dean possibly be angry at himself for? He pushes the question at Sam’s mind. It’s a useless thing to do, because Sam is already asking, stunned confusion filtering from the connection to his face.

“What the hell are you mad with yourself for?”

Dean rocks his weight from one foot to the other and his head tilts. Castiel surmises that Dean must be looking at the floor now. Even Sam doesn’t catch his response and he leans closer, eyebrows up in a silent request for repetition. When that doesn’t work, because Dean is obviously not looking at him, Sam pokes him hard in the chest until Dean’s head snaps up with a displeased glare fixed on his face.

He gestures wildly at Castiel and the small-sea, narrowly missing smacking the glass with his arm and the blue-white covering it. “Because I _couldn’t protect him!_ Lilith had him gussied up like a prancing show pony and he was just letting it happen and then he started singing the goddamn song that I can’t get out of my fucking _head_ and then everything went to hell in  a hand basket –” He stops, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Lilith had him and he was scared and confused and… I didn’t even get a damn swing in before Alistair had me pinned like it was nothing. I promised Cas I’d keep him safe and I failed so I’m pissed at me, not him, and I just…” He shoves his hands through his hair and turns away, his back to Castiel. “I don’t want him to feel that from me.”

Castiel doesn’t need to the kin-connection to know Dean feels shame. He unfolds and the chain rattles as he slips in an easy roll of his body over to the wall. He can press his hands to the glass, but he can’t rest his forehead against it like he wants to. Castiel curls his tail beneath him, resting on the bunch of it and he watches Dean’s back. Sam tries to get him to turn, but Dean won’t have it – he keeps shaking his head.

He doesn’t know what else to do to reach Dean, so Castiel opens his mouth and he sings. It’s the half of the bonding song only he can sing. There’s a brief flash of sad pain high in his chest when he realizes he might never hear the other half – especially not if he keeps singing it to a human. But right now, he needs Dean to hear it, he needs Dean to understand that there is nothing to be ashamed about.

He had sworn to himself that he would keep Dean from being hurt, and he had failed. Dean had promised Castiel he would keep him safe, and he believes he failed too. They’re both on the same shelf and there’s nothing more to do but put it behind them and keep moving forward but he can’t do that with Dean hating himself.

So he sings. He hides the emotions that accompany the song from Sam, but he lets his throat-voice play over the notes – rising and falling in a smooth crescendo of rounded tones that flow together in a lacking harmony. There’s obviously parts missing because the duet is incomplete and Dean won’t ever know or be able to produce the sounds to sing it.

Castiel thinks he might be okay with that. It would be nice if Dean could sing with him, it would be beyond nice. It could very well be perfect. But right now, all Castiel wants and needs is for Dean to understand that he doesn’t hold him responsible. He doesn’t hate him and Dean shouldn’t hate himself.

He doesn’t look away from Dean, not even when Jess appears at Sam’s side and he slides his arms around her waist and bends to put his chin on her shoulder. Castiel silently counts with the notes of his song how long it is before the tension eases from Dean’s shoulders and he starts to turn. He’s slow to move, but his eyes are wide when they meet Castiel’s.

A tentative smile pulls at his lips as they form around the chords of the song. He presses forward with his mind, skirting the walls still firmly raised around Dean’s own. They start to crumble as Dean backs up until his knees hit the bed and he drops to sit heavily on the mattress. His eyes never leave Castiel’s and they still hold the same untold reverence as they did the day before.

By the last wavering note that rises to a high, almost warbling pitch like the crooning of the sea giants, Dean’s walls have fallen. Castiel doesn’t reach beyond the comforting edges of his mind. He waits for the cautious touch to ghost over his own before he slips over his thoughts. Castiel hunts down the lingering shame and the disease that is Dean’s own self hatred. He finds it and he brushes all the forgiveness and acceptance of their own failings across them until they’re nothing but burned out volcanic rock. They’ll always be there, Castiel can’t change that, but he can certainly help soothe them down to near nothingness.

There’s a tug to his attention that doesn’t belong to Dean and it’s almost painful for Castiel to turn his eyes to Sam. He’s watching Castiel and Dean from over Jess’s head. _(I wasn’t too sure on the recording last night, now I’m almost positive hearing it in person… but that’s not the whole song is it?)_

His fins ripple slightly and he immediately wishes his connection with Dean wasn’t as open as it currently is. He shares Sam’s thoughts without even waiting to listen to what they could be. Castiel knew at least one of them would notice. And judging by the unsurprised agreement that dances through his link with Dean, he may have been slightly off in his guessing. He nods, slow, just one jerk of his chin.

 _(What’s missing Cas? It’s… I mean, wow, it’s really awesome as it is now. But would the missing piece make it better?)_ Dean leans forward excitedly, anticipation tripping bright and steady over his thoughts.

He nods again but he can’t bring himself to say what’s missing. If he withdraws his emotions, both Dean and Sam will know that he has something to hide. And he can’t lie, because they’d both be able to sense it almost immediately. He could simply not answer, but again that is a clear indicator that there is something worth keeping from them and if what he’s learned from Dean so far is any indication, it will serve to do nothing more than anger him.

Jess does something with her hand and her fingers that has Sam and Dean looking at her sharply. She’s smiling brightly at them both. “I get it now!”

“Get what?” Sam’s eyebrow raises and there are three different sets of confusion fluttering through Castiel’s mind. Jess wasn’t a part of the kin-connection, though it was rude of Castiel not to include her, so she shouldn’t have any idea of what they were talking about.

“The song is beautiful, yeah, but it doesn’t sound right. I used to take piano as a kid, and your song was like playing a piece but only doing the left hand when the song calls for both hands. You’re only getting half the song. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re singing a ‘duet’ solo.”

 _(Cas, is that true?)_ Dean’s eyes find his and Castiel can’t lie or hide from the earnest question or the honest curiosity pulsing bright through the kin-connection. He nods.

_(Why?)_

Castiel tilts his head a fraction, confused.

Dean picks at the blue-white where it circles around his thumb. _(I’m sure you guys have so many other solos you could have picked from. Why’d you pick one that wouldn’t sound right without someone else?)_

He licks his lips and shakes his head, he can’t tell Dean what the song really is. Not now, not ever. Castiel starts to withdraw from the kin-connection, just enough that not everything is shared so readily. He’s surprised when Dean seizes at the edges of his mind, tugging at it almost painfully to keep him in place.

_(I know it’s probably fourteen different kinds of hypocritical of me, but seriously Cas, don’t hide behind any walls from me, okay? It’s hard enough figuring you out when I can feel all of you. You don’t have to tell me about the song. It’s probably some big fin-kin secret you shouldn’t have shared. But just… Don’t. Okay?)_

Castiel’s response is lost in the tripping skitter-stop of his heart and the flashing horror that sweeps in a chill from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. His fingers clench against the glass and he turns wide eyes to Jess and the words he prays that he misheard through Sam’s connection, the words she whispered to him, and he hopes that Dean didn’t hear them. The stunned silence of Dean’s thoughts and his careful question that follows deflates his hope before it even buds.

 _(Is… Cas, is she right? Was it – is it a –)_ His throat works over a swallow. _(Is it a love song?)_

__

 


	12. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel huffs at the word and mutters “fin-kin” under his breath. Dean’s laugh is a soft puff that rolls over his side-fan and it sends unwanted tingles dancing under his scales. He feels Dean tense slightly, knees bending. There’s a few moments of anxious silence before the entire boat rocks violently and a horrific noise that sounds like thunder and the screech of metal on metal rips the air. It hurts Castiel’s head to hear and he presses his face into Dean’s neck, trying not to tremble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big thank you to everyone who's read, commented, kudos-ed, bookmarked, or subscribed to this fic. Your kindness means the world to me and I'm just in tears every time. Thank you.
> 
> Happy Birthday to Kali (aka: kalokalovesyou)!! 
> 
> New fanart, fanfic, (a few smutty ones of my own!) and Q&Asover at the [Out of the Deep](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootd) tumblr page!
> 
> A MASSIVE amount of fanarts (with some NOT SAFE FOR WORK ones - seriously guys **there is mermaid penis down there** ) today by the following wonderful people: shaishart, msmerc, i-watch-the-bees, ssteidi, a-study-in-demons, casdasgay, seraphlimonade, fluffyrug, superwholock-girl, prettynerdangel, madlydrawsbonkers, artxisxinxmyxsoul, chicksnicket, rougemarionette, handprintonmyshoulder, and mysterymind277. (All over on tumblr - links aren't working right when i try to use them. Sorry guys! Also, my links got messed up so art is not appearing in the order of the names of their artists.)
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix ASAP!_

He can still see the surprise in Dean’s eyes, still feel the flash of understanding and the cold resignation. Castiel’s arms tighten around his stomach and he fights to ignore the knots under his skin that make him feel like he’s going to be sick. It’s hard when he can still hear Dean’s words. They won’t stop bouncing around his brain when all he wants is to forget them and the ache in his chest.

_(Don’t, Cas, don’t sing something like that. Not for me.)_

It feels like his heart and his lungs are being crushed. Like he got caught in a rockslide and there are boulders pressing on his back, flattening him until there won’t be anything left.

Castiel wasn’t expecting any other kind of reaction from Dean, but it still hurts. He doesn’t understand why. Even after learning of what Dean had said about him when he had attacked Lilith and Alistair, he’d held no hope that Dean would think of him in any similar way to how Castiel feels for him.

But the memory won’t stop playing behind his eyelids when he closes them against the black of his scales and the blue of his fins. It’s all he can see and he hates it. He hates how the lines of Dean’s face had gone hard and he’d ran his fingers through his hair when he looked away. He hates how the kin-connection had been cleared of Dean’s emotions so quickly it had left Castiel’s mind spinning.

 _(You can’t – you shouldn’t do that. It’s just fucking Stockholm Syndrome. And God, Cas, you’re not – I’m a goddamn_ human _. Don’t. Just don’t. It’s_ wrong _.)_

There had been some confusion from Sam, but Castiel had felt only a brief flicker of it before he had severed the connections and relocated to the middle of small-sea. It is childish to hide under his fins but he doesn’t want to see the others and this is the only way. He is only thankful that he hasn’t cried over Dean’s rejection yet.

There’s a tightness in Castiel’s throat that makes it hard to breathe and it hurts to swallow around it when he fights to keep the tears at bay. He doesn’t want to cry. He shouldn’t. It would be shameful and he’s sure that Dean would notice.

He’s lost track of how long he’s been curled under the length of chain at the center of small-sea. The metal collar is uncomfortable and stretched taut around his neck.

Sometimes he hears the start-stop rumble of voices.

When he had first curled up, they had been loud. Castiel could even recognize whose voice was whose, though he couldn’t hear the words. He knows Sam and Dean were shouting at each other. Jess would sometimes raise her voice too, and he thinks he heard the hollow boom of the door once. He doesn’t want to know what they were saying or who left, and he doesn’t want to know just how much Dean doesn’t want a fin-kin to feel this way for him.

It’s not like Castiel _wants_ to feel like this. It’s not something he anticipated happening. He’d much rather not think of Dean as anything beyond one of the few humans that he can consider a friend. But being so close to Dean with the kin-connection had played against him. He fully blames their link for the pain in his chest now.

It’s the hardest decision he’s likely to ever make, but Castiel decides now – and he swears to himself he’ll stick to it this time – that he won’t touch Dean’s mind again. Even if Dean asks that he establishes the kin-connection, even if he gets mad when he refuses, Castiel won’t do it. He knows he can’t stand to feel Dean’s thoughts anymore.

Castiel can think of nothing good that would come of that. Dean would either keep his emotions closed off, and that would be almost as painful as not having the connection at all, or he wouldn’t and Castiel would be able to feel his disgust or his dislike for Castiel’s feelings. His chest constricts and his gills flutter at the thought of Dean hating him for not being able to control himself.

As if being a prisoner wasn’t bad enough, Castiel had to make matters worse and now he’s lost Dean again. Like he’d almost lost him before.

Castiel groans and shuffles around until he can fold his arms around his head. He doesn’t like thinking about this. It’s annoying and it hurts and he wishes there was a way he could just forget anything ever happened. And even if it causes a spike of pain high in his chest, he wishes he could forget Dean. He wishes he never met him or started the kin-connection with him.

He never wants to see Dean again.

The water vibrates with another thud. Castiel thinks it might be the door, but he’s not going to check. He doesn’t want to accidentally see Dean. The splash and sudden burst of activity in the water has Castiel sitting up quickly, the chain catching on his back-fans as he flares them defensively.

A school of fish dart around by the front wall. On the other side of the glass Sam is handing the bucket back to Bobby. Jess is standing by the door and holding a dart-gun. She looks on edge, with her hair piled messily on her head. Castiel can’t help but notice that Dean is not in the room. The knot in his stomach twists with the familiar panic whenever Dean is gone.

Castiel knows he’s safe with Sam and Jess here. And he’s not even sure if Dean will want to protect him, or even if Dean will want to stay in the room anymore. He can’t imagine how uncomfortable Dean must feel knowing that the song Castiel sang to him _twice_ is about love. And he has no intention of telling anyone the true meaning behind the lyrics.

Jess says something and gestures with the dart-gun. Sam immediately turns to the small-sea. Castiel catches his wide eyes for a brief moment before he looks away. He ignores the sharp rapping of Sam’s knuckles on the glass and he curls up again. He’s still full from earlier and the thought of eating again – ever again – make his stomach turn.

He folds the end of his tail over his head, his fans and fins spreading to cover as much of his arms and shoulders as they can. The knocking continues for a few minutes and it’s annoying, echoing sharply in the water. Castiel puts his hands over his side-fans, trying to block it out. He’ll talk to Sam or Jess again, but not now. Right now he wants to be left alone.

There’s the stuttering sound of voices before the thud of the door and Castiel hopes it means Bobby left. He doesn’t think about how he really hopes that it’s Dean returning. That’s something – someone – he shouldn’t be thinking about anymore. Because it’s _wrong_. Castiel had thought that once before, but Dean and his warmth and his smiles and his kindness had all but obliterated that. He doesn’t even know how he thought it would be okay to think it wasn’t wrong.

He knows the thought Dean hadn’t finished. The one he changed to hurt Castiel less. The problem isn’t that Dean is human. It’s that Castiel _isn’t_. And it’s something that Castiel has known since before he thought it even remotely acceptable to have any kind of feelings for Dean. But it still _hurts_.

The sounds of the fish sliding through the water is soothing to the riotous circle of Castiel’s thoughts. It lulls him into a soft, dozing state. It’s not quite a sleep, because Castiel is still aware of the steady thrum of the boat and the quiet tapping of Sam or Jess moving around the room, and when they turn down the lights just a bit. But his mind drifts to a place where he doesn’t think of anything, a buzzing nothingness devoid of Dean or the colony and the home Castiel misses more than he has words for.

He loses himself like this until he jerks back to reality and silence. A silence like in the deep during the night, when Castiel can’t even hear the sentries on duty and the other fin-kin have settled to sleep. The fish still move, sending vibrations through the water, but beyond that there is nothing. The boat is quiet.

Castiel lifts his head to find Sam sitting up in the bed and Jess looking at the door from her place in front of a computer. Her forehead his wrinkled in what Castiel thinks looks like concern. He reaches for her mind and Jess flinches at the first touch. Her surprise is the brightest thought to flood through the newly opened connection. Castiel pushes it aside and brushes his confusion over the wash of questions she tries to ask.

Jess shakes her head and shrugs. Worry flickers along the edges of her mind. _(We don’t know what’s going on, but the engines have stopped. That means the ship isn’t moving.)_

Elation softens the heavy weight that had settled in his chest. If the boat isn’t moving, it means Castiel isn’t getting any farther from the colony. He doesn’t know what this might mean for them right now, but to him it is good news.

Sam gets up and he takes out his phone. He frowns and starts poking at it. Castiel watches him absently while he thinks. He needs to know the circumstances behind the boat stopping. If it is an unexpected happening, then the guards on deck and perhaps whomever Lilith left in charge could be distracted by trying to repair whatever made the boat stop in the first place. If he could get Sam to cut the chain and get the chip out of his back, they could potentially make his escape now. Armed with the dart-guns and the mentality of shooting first, Sam and Jess might be able to get Castiel to the deck.

He grabs at Sam’s mind excitedly, tugging at his thoughts until he has his attention. Castiel pushes his plan through the kin-connection, over riding anything that Sam tries to say. He knows that the images, his emotions, and the small use of human words he hass, are all coloured with desperation. He wants Sam to say ‘yes’, to say that now is the perfect time to escape so he can get away.

Away from Dean.

 _(I wouldn’t risk it now, not when we don’t know what’s going on.)_ Sam is chewing on his bottom lip, looking from his phone to Castiel. _(I’m contacting Pamela to find out if she knows.)_

Castiel ruffles his fins in irritation and starts swimming in tight circles. _(How long until she answers?)_

Sam only shrugs and he flat out refuses when Castiel asks if he or Jess could go find out. It’s too dangerous for any of them to be alone. Whether it’s in the room or out on the boat. They have no way of knowing if or when Alistair might do something. Castiel barely catches himself from asking if Dean could be in trouble, since he left on his own before. If he brings up Dean now, who knows what questions Sam or Jess might ask. He’s already pointedly ignoring the cautious prod of Jess’s thoughts and the trembling curiosity he can feel leaking through their connection.

 _(Castiel.)_ Sam stands, coming closer to the glass-wall. _(About earlier –)_

He flares his fans and bares his teeth. _(I don’t want to talk about it.)_

A frown pulls at Sam’s mouth and he rubs his hand over his face. _(Well sometimes people have to talk about things they don’t want to. But if you want to be childish and shut the connection again, go ahead, I can’t stop you. I don’t even want to ask you anything about what happened. I just want to_ tell _you a few things.)_

Castiel pauses in his swimming, drifting to a stop. His fins flicker in mild interest. _(What?)_

Sam takes a deep breath, his chest swelling, and he looks over at Jess. He says a few words to her, words that neither of them translate for him, and she nods. Castiel thinks it looks like she’s giving him permission to continue. He’s so distracted by thinking about why Sam would need Jess’s consent for anything he would need to tell Castiel, that he almost misses what Sam actually says.

 _(We think Dean is crazy about you.)_

His fans and fins flare wide in surprise. Even his gills flutter wildly and Castiel finds himself gasping for a proper rush of water through them. He stares at Sam until he elaborates. Sam shifts on his feet before taking a few steps back and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Rather than use words, Sam starts dragging up memories. Each one is an image of Dean looking at Castiel when his back is turned, or when he’s busy doing something else, or when he’s sleeping. Some of the memories are days old, but most are far more recent. The softening of Dean’s features from the older memories changes the more current they get. Castiel thinks he looks confused, like he doesn’t understand what he’s looking at.

 _(He talks about you pretty much all the time. If he’s not talking about machines, his car, or his guitar, he’s talking about you. He’ll tell us about everything; the things he’s talked about with you – whether it’s something I should know as a scientist or not – or the little things you do when you swim or_ something _. He never shuts up about any of it. The last time I saw him like this was before I met Ruby and he was starting to go out with the only person I’ve ever seen him care for that wasn’t me or Bobby. She’s the only serious relationship he’s ever really had and my whole thing with the drugs kind of ruined it for him.)_

The tightness returns to Castiel’s chest, but it feels different now. The ache is there, but it’s like it hurts less. It’s almost feels like a pleasant burn. It feels a little like hope. Castiel settles with his tail curled under him, watching Sam and waiting for him to continue.

Sam starts turning his phone over and over in his hands. Jess leaves the computer to come sit beside him. She slips her arm around his waist and leans her head against his shoulder. Immediately, Sam puts one arm around her and he looks back up at Castiel.

_(I don’t know if you meant to do it earlier, but I heard through you what Dean said. It’s what we fought about before he stormed out. I know he sounded harsh, and you probably don’t want to hear this from me, but we… I think he was trying to protect you both.)_

Castiel snorts and shakes his head. _(He told me it was_ wrong _.)_

 _(If I recall correctly, you said the same thing to him a few days ago, didn’t you?)_ One of Sam’s eyebrows quirk upward and Castiel immediately hates that small movement.

 _(Because it’s_ true _.)_ He ignores the twinge around his heart the thought gives him. _(He’s human. I’m fin-kin. We may have similar characteristics, but we are two very different species. And he called my emotions ‘Stockholm Syndrome’. I don’t even know what that is!)_

Incredulous surprise flickers brightly from Sam and he shakes his head. _(It could be considered that if Dean was abusing you or something, but he’s not. If you were building strong emotional connections with Lilith or Alistair instead,_ that _would be Stockholm Syndrome.)_

 _(I’d rather tear off my own fins.)_ Castiel shudders at the thought of liking either of those two.

_(I don’t doubt it. But, Castiel, what I’m trying to get at is… As we get you back into the ocean Dean is probably never going to see you again, right?)_

Castiel swallows around a sudden lump in his throat and the spines of his fans flex. He doesn’t like thinking about that. Of course he wants to get back to the sea and return to his family. But it makes a fluttery kind of panic kick against his sternum to think he’ll never see Dean again. Castiel doesn’t meet Sam’s eyes. He looks down, watching as he smoothes his hand over his scales.

_(Dean’s doing what he always does. He’s doing what I’ve seen him do over and over again with people who try to get closer to him when he knows he can’t be what they want.)_

_(Stop.)_ Castiel folds his fingers into a fist, claws pressing painfully into his palm. _(I can’t stay here and Dean can’t come with me. I never should have allowed myself to feel like… like_ this _. It’s wrong and pointless and you’re not helping. You’re attempting to convince me that Dean was purposefully trying to hurt me so I would stop thinking of him like this, in hopes that it will hurt us less when I get free.)_

He hunches his shoulders and his back-fans rustle and allows his anger to flood the connection with his thoughts. _(You’re trying to convince me that Dean cares for me as I care for him and what you are doing is worse than Dean’s efforts to hurt me.)_

Sam slumps, remorse pushing against the tide of Castiel’s frustrations. _(I didn’t mean to – I just didn’t wanted to –)_

 _(We wanted to make sure you weren’t angry, or hurting.)_ Jess’s thoughts slip through her connection with Castiel and he starts ins surprise. He’d forgotten that he was linked with her and he didn’t realize he’d been sharing his conversation with Sam with her too.

Castiel bares his teeth in a snarl, but his response is cut off by a loud crash that makes Sam and Jess jump. The noise trails off into a rumble before it fades entirely.

 _(What was that?)_ He pushes away from the floor of small-sea, twisting up to float uncertainly in the water.

 _(It sounded like thunder.)_ Sam stands and takes the dart-gun from Jess. He crosses the room to the door and unlocks it. He leads with the dart-gun when he looks out into the hallway. _(Yeah, I can definitely hear the rain better out here. That could be why the engines cut out, they don’t want to fight the storm.)_

Castiel rolls forward until he can press his hands to the glass front-wall. _(What is thunder?)_

Sam’s explanation about rapid expansions of air, pressure, temperature and sonic shock waves only leads to having to explain what lightening is. Castiel provides images of the bright-cracks that break the steady-blue during storms and he’s oddly pleased by Sam’s surprise that he knows what lightening is. He’s seen them spike down toward the sea during patrols. But he’s always been too deep to hear the rumble of thunder.

The door has only been closed for a few minutes and Sam and Jess are discussing on whether or not one of them should try sleeping in shifts when a loud bang makes them all jump, even Castiel. He watches the door warily when the banging repeats into a staccato knock. Jess stays behind the door when she opens it, Sam stands in front, dart-gun raised.

Dean brushes past the both the moment the door is opened. He ignores Sam’s questions and shrugs off his hand when he tries to stop him. His hair is wet and his clothing clings to him, heavy with water. He’s wearing a shirt that has no sleeves, but his left arm is covered in blue to well past his elbow. Castiel can see the shape of the blue-white ‘cast’ under this blue-sleeve that covers even his fingers. Dean stops only long enough to grab the bolt-cutters that are laying on the ledge before continuing around the corner of small-sea to the platform.

 _(What is on Dean’s arm?)_ Castiel brushes his curiosity across Sam’s mind.

_(It’s a protective – uh – glove. You put it over casts and use a pump to suck the air from it to make it tight so water can’t get in. Either he was going to take a shower, or he put it on because he’s planning on being outside a lot more in the rain.)_

Sam’s irritation seeps through the connection with his answer while confusion comes from Jess. She shuts and locks the door and they both follow after Dean. Castiel watches them inquisitively, flicking his tail lightly to coast through the water to keep in line with Sam and Jess. He’s only mildly surprised when Dean flips up the bars, but he slides back toward the center of small-sea when Dean tucks the long handles of the bolt-cutter through his belt and starts climbing over the glass-wall.

 _(Keep him out!)_ Castiel hisses and presses the thought against Sam’s mind. He flares his fans in warning, but it doesn’t stop Dean. _(I don’t want him in here!)_

Dean hesitates, precariously leaning over the edge of the glass,  when Sam relays Castiel’s message. He glances to his brother before looking back toward him. Castiel refuses to meet his eyes, glaring instead at the curve of his shoulder. He hisses again, baring his fangs and spreading the spines of his fans threateningly. For a moment, he thinks Dean might listen and drop back to the platform. But then Dean flexes his leg where it’s thrown over the glass and he tumbles into the water. Sam jumps out of the way of the splash and the fish scatter to the far side of small-sea.

Castiel follows them as far as his chain will allow. He doesn’t want Dean to be in the water with him. He doesn’t want him to come any closer. Dean needs to stay away from him if Castiel has any hopes of separating himself from the feelings he has for him. He swims in agitated little loops at the end of the chain, keeping it pulled taut against his throat, as he watches Dean take a few deep breaths and kick away from the wall.

Using the bars, Dean pulls himself to the center of small-sea. He lays on his back, face breaking the water through the bars where he takes another deep breath. Dean pushes himself away from the bars, sinking down a bit and twisting to face Castiel. He takes the bolt-cutter from its place at his hip and wraps one hand around the chain. Castiel stops moving, his next breath catching in his gills as Dean puts the crab-claw end against one of the chain’s links.

It takes a few attempts and Dean’s face is steadily turning red, but with one quick press of the handles together the chain snaps. A long length of it is still attached to Castiel, but he can swim freely in small-sea now. A rush of gratitude spreads warmth through Castiel’s chest, except there’s a twist in his stomach because Dean hasn’t once asked him to establish the kin-connection.

Dean breaks the surface again to take several gasping breaths that even Castiel can hear. Castiel swims a quick lap around the perimeter of the small-sea, skirting the glass and trailing the chain after him. It’s in his peripheral vision that he sees Dean gesturing for him to come closer.

Castiel drifts to a stop and shakes his head. “No.”

The water muffles his voice, but even if Dean doesn’t understand the sound, he certainly understands the shape of the word on Castiel’s lips. He rolls his eyes and his lips press into a thin line as bubbles stream out his nose. Dean motions for him to come closer again and points at his wrist. Castiel doesn’t understand the gesture.

 _(It means time is an issue.)_ Sam provides, a tentative hope etching along the edges of his thoughts.

He’s not pleased to do it, but Castiel swims closer while Dean is taking another breath. He circles under his legs, glancing up every few seconds.  Dean makes a muffled noise in his throat and pushes against the bars to sink lower. He points at Castiel, then at the bolt-cutters before waving  vaguely at his own neck.

Castiel tightens the circle and arches his back, rising up until he’s within reach. The blue-skin covering Dean’s arm feels weird when it touches Castiel’s neck. Dean tries several times to work the cold metal of the bolt-cutters pincer under the chain, but he keeps losing his hold as he rises and falls in the water with his kicking. He makes the displeased noise again and keeps trying.

The bubbles of Dean’s air have slowed and his face is turning a startling shade of red. Castiel doesn’t like it and he covers Dean’s hands with his own to stop him. He pushes Dean toward the surface until he finally takes a breath. Castiel knows that Dean is trying to cut the chain from his neck, but he can’t stay still long enough to get the leverage he needs. The only option he can think of for helping him is one he wishes he didn’t have to consider.

Dean jerks in surprise and stares at Castiel with wide eyes when he wraps his tail around Dean’s legs. He reaches up to hold the bars and understanding crawls over Dean’s expression when he doesn’t sink. Castiel holds him steady and tilts his head back to give Dean the space he needs. The chain pulls tight against his neck before the bolt-cutter snaps the links.

Castiel  rubs at his throat while Dean breathes. Dean lets go of the bolt-cutters and lets them sink to the floor below. He grabs Castiel’s shoulders, fingers brushing the top spine of his back-fans, and points to where Sam and Jess are waiting on the platform. Castiel  uncurls his tail from around Dean’s legs and starts to pull away, but the fingers on his shoulder tighten.

Dean waves his hand between his chest and Castiel’s and points at the wall again. He frowns, knowing what Dean wants but torn between helping him or not. He would need to touch Dean more to take him to the wall and he doesn’t want to. Even in the cool waters Dean’s touch is warm and addicting.

His poison induced dream forces it’s way to the forefront of his mind and Castiel fights the urge to squirm his way under Dean’s shirt and tuck himself against his chest to soak in the heat of his skin. He twists away from Dean’s hand, curling backward and diving out of his reach. He circles Dean again before veering away to the glass-wall by the platform.

A frustrated noise muffles through the water and Castiel watches over his shoulder as Dean half-swims, half-drags himself by the bars across small-sea to the wall. Dean hooks an arm over the edge of the glass when he finally reaches it and his irritation is plain on his face. He says a few quick words to Sam and Jess before he starts trying to pull himself up over the wall without putting pressure on his left arm.

Sam and Jess hover awkwardly, trying to help by reaching over the edge to pull at his shirt or what parts they can reach. After a few moments, Castiel takes an amused pity and helps by diving under Dean’s feet and pushing up against them. As soon as Dean is standing on the platform, he turns around and makes the same ‘come here’ gesture as before and points at his wrist.

Castiel turns his eyes to Sam. _(Why?)_

Dean makes a sharp, aborted move with his hand when asked Castiel’s question. Surprise bursts across both connections with Sam and Jess. They both translate Dean’s words and a tumbling spiral of hope burns bright through Castiel’s chest.

“Because we’re getting him out _now_.”

Castiel wastes no time sealing his gills and breaking the surface. He coughs the water from his lungs as he struggles to lift himself over the glass-wall. He’s too excited to care that Dean is the one who takes the brunt of his weight. He leans heavily on Dean’s shoulders while Sam and Jess help to pull his tail over the rim of the small-sea without pinching his adipose fins.

The thunder rumbles every few minutes and it’s louder outside of small-sea. Without being suspended in the water, Castiel notices now that the boat is rocking.

“I should carry him.” Sam says, hesitating to let go of Castiel’s tail. “You won’t be able to carry him for long with that arm.”

“I’ll be fine. Just get the spare gun and lead the way. Jess can help me if I start having any trouble.” Dean turns and Castiel lets him move him around until his back is being supported by his left arm and Dean can tuck his right under his tail. Castiel tightens his arms around Dean’s shoulders, trying to lift as much of his weight off of Dean’s broken arm as he can.

Sam has more objections that stream through the kin-connection, but they cut off at a look from Dean. Castiel doesn’t understand the look, or the hard set of Dean’s eyes. Jess and Sam steady him as he gets down from the platform with Castiel in his arms. The first few steps are wobbly and Dean shuffles Castiel against his chest until he’s in a more comfortable hold.

“What about the Alistair?” Jess asks while she gets another dart-gun from under the mattress of their bed.

“Him and Gordon are gonna be busy.” Dean’s words are barely louder than grunts as he walks to the door.

“With that?” Caution tinges Sam’s thoughts as he translates for Castiel.

Dean grins and tilts his head toward the door. “You’ll see. C’mon, let’s go. Pam and Bobby are waiting.”

Confusion flashes bright from both Sam and Jess, but neither question it further. Sam opens the door and leans out into the hall with the dart-gun held ready. Castiel can’t see her, but he hears Pamela’s voice drifting on the air.

“Nobody else is on this floor, Sam. Get your asses in gear before we lose our window of opportunity!”

Sam and Jess lead the way out into the hall. Jess looks toward the elevator. “How do you know?”

“Breakfast time.” Dean steps out into the hall and the door beeps shut behind them. “We made sure they’re in the mess hall.”

Pamela is waiting at the very end of the hall by the door. She has an odd looking phone in her hand that has a long stick pointing out of the top of it. Jess falls into step behind Dean while Sam leads them toward Pamela. They both hold their dart-guns ready.

“But we have to go through the lunch room, how are we going to –”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Winchester.” Pamela grins and winks. She holds the stick-phone up to her mouth and Castiel’s hears a crackle like the speakers in small-sea. “They’re here. Blow it, Bobby.”

There’s silence and then another crackle. “Roger. Hold on you to your asses and don’t drop your mermaid.”

Castiel huffs at the word and mutters “fin-kin” under his breath. Dean’s laugh is a soft puff that rolls over his side-fan and it sends unwanted tingles dancing under his scales. He feels Dean tense slightly, knees bending. There’s a few moments of anxious silence before the entire boat rocks violently and a horrific noise that sounds like thunder and the screech of metal on metal rips the air. It hurts Castiel’s head to hear and he presses his face into Dean’s neck, trying not to tremble.

“What the _hell_ was that?!” Sam’s shout is loud and Pamela hisses at him to be quiet.

Dean wobbles slightly, but he doesn’t fall over. “Calm down, Sammy, it was only the back-up engine. Bobby just set off some make-shift explosives we built with shit from around the boat.”

Jess’s voice is eerily calm, a paradox in comparison to the chaotic mess of her thoughts. “You built a bomb and set it off in the engine room?”

“Sure did. Bobby and I came up with this beauty of a backup plan just in case we lucked out on a day like today. We hit jackpot with Lilith on shore leave thanks to angelfish.” Pamela says, her voice muffled. When Castiel looks, she’s got her ear pressed to the door. “And there are the footsteps!” She steps back and lifts the stick-phone, staring at it pointedly. “C’mon Bobby, baby, give me those clicks.”

A moments later, the stick-phone crackles and there are three very distinct clicks. Pamela shoulders open the door and Castiel can see metal bars, and tiered platforms leading up and down. The air is an odd colour and a bad smell wafts through as Dean follows Sam into the stairwell. His first breath of the bad-air makes Castiel cough hard. It burns his throat and makes his eyes water.

Dean curses and staggers on the first stair. “Shit. Just hold your breath or something, Cas. Anyone got something to cover his face with?”

Pamela stops them long enough to throw her white coat over Castiel’s head. Panic blooms bright and hard in his chest as she tucks it tight against his chest and shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to knock it off without letting go of Dean.

“Don’t, Cas. Leave it, please.” Dean’s voice is muffled by the white coat, but Sam still shares the words and translate for him.

 _(We don’t want you to get sick off the smoke. We’ve been around it before, so we can handle it a little better than you, but it’s not good to breathe it for long.)_ Jess’s explanation is ringed with her anxiety and Castiel knows she must be checking behind them constantly.

Castiel feels the press of Dean’s face against the white coat, his lips moving over his temple through the fabric. He’s whispering and neither Sam or Jess translate because they can’t hear them. Castiel only recognizes a few of the words, but the reassuring tone makes that light, floating feeling in his chest do summersaults around his ribs. “Almost there, Cas. One more flight of stairs, through the mess hall, and then you’ll be home free.”

Pamela’s voice comes from somewhere not to far above Castiel’s head. “Room is cleared out, but I see patrols on deck.”

“Anyone near the door?” Sam’s voice is close to her.

“Not really, but they’ll be able see us through the windows and angelfish here is pretty damn noticeable.”

Jess speaks up from behind them. “Can we hit the lights?”

Dean stumbles slightly on a step. “Not if we don’t want to wave a ‘look at us, we’re up to something’ flag in their faces. Sam, you go out first. Get them with the tranqs. Soon as you’ve got the guys closest to the door, we’ll make a break for it. All we gotta do is get Cas over the rails and we’re golden.”

Castiel’s arms tighten and he tilts his head until he noses against what he thinks might be Dean’s cheek. “Dean. Tag.”

“I know, I know. We’ve got it covered don’t worry.” Dean stops climbing and his chest is rising and falling hard and quick against Castiel’s side.

The white coat is pulled away and Castiel blinks against the lights. They’re standing on a wide platform at the top of the stairs. Dean is leaning his hips back against one of the bars lining the edges and there’s sweat gathered on his temples and in his hairline. Jess hands the coat to Pamela and she puts it back on. Sam is nowhere to be seen.

Pamela is standing in the doorway again and the door is open only partially, enough for her to stare out into the room on the other side. Castiel can’t see much through the crack, but he sees long ledges with even lower ledges tucked close. There are disks full of uneaten food laying scattered across them. The smell of the ‘smoke’ is overwhelmed by the scents of so many different things Castiel doesn’t even know what they are, but they make the hinges of his jaw twinge and he can feel an increase of saliva in his mouth.

“What’s Sam doing?” Jess leans closer to Pamela. Castiel thinks she’s trying to see over her head. “If he doesn’t hurry, someone is going to see us on the cameras. Alistair isn’t going to be entertained for long by the engine issue once he tells Bobby to go look at it.”

“If he can find him. Or get out of the room.” Dean’s breathing is evening out and he only winces slightly as he hefts Castiel higher against his chest. “We’ve been having trouble getting that door to stay open, y’know? Sticks something awful when it swings shut all on its own. Good thing that room has decent ventilation.” He grins and waggles his eyebrows at Castiel when he notices him looking.

Castiel quickly drops his gaze, turning away to watch Jess and Pamela. Dean’s fingers tighten over the lines of colour on his side and against the scales on the underside of his tail. Castiel gives a disgruntled little noise when Dean bounces him once in his arms to resettle him in a better grip. He shoots Dean a small frown before looking away again.

“Cas –” Dean starts softly, barely more than a whisper. Castiel’s side-fans twitch and angle toward him, but he doesn’t turn to look. He feels Dean shift his weight and the soft inhalation before he’s going to speak.

Pamela hisses, cutting of anything Dean was going to say. “Oh Christ, he’s _talking_ to one of them. Maybe one of us should go over there?”

Dean sighs and shifts again, as if he can’t get comfortable leaning against the bar. “You go, Pam. The guards know about our situation and they’re going to get suspicious if he’s walking about alone. Sam’ll shoot as soon as the guard’s attention is on you.”

She nods and slips out through the door. Jess immediately takes her place. The tip of Castiel’s tail keeps twitching and his fingers flex over his arm and against Dean’s shoulder. His chest is a hectic mess, filled to bursting with the excitement that he might finally be free soon. It’s practically a vibration thrumming high and tight behind his sternum.

He hears Dean murmur his name softly again. There’s a quiet emotion in his voice, something Castiel thinks might be regret. It dampens the flighty feeling that flutters at his insides and he can feel a heavy weight settle in his gut. Castiel closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath, steeling his resolve before looking back at Dean.

He meets his eyes and shakes his head once. “No, Dean.” Castiel begs without words for Dean to understand, to not say anything else. He’s so close to his freedom and if Dean apologizes, if he tells Castiel anything even remotely like what Sam told him before, it’ll be that much harder to let go and sink into the deep.

Anything Dean might have said is lost to the next moment when Jess throws the door open and calls from them to follow. Dean staggers forward and Castiel holds tightly as he follows after her. The room is longer than Castiel expected and he doesn’t have time to scrutinize the area before they’re out on the deck and for the first time he feels something cold and invisible press against him. It’s like the world is breathing and its breath is gusting over him, driving hard pellets of rain into his skin.

Two males are laying on the deck not far from where Sam is standing. Pamela is close beside him, shielding her eyes from the rain and the world-breath. Castiel can hear shouting behind them and a heavy thud. When he looks, Jess is lowering her dart-gun and there is a female laying curled at the base of another set of stairs leading to levels above that Castiel didn’t even know about.

“Get him over here!” Pamela waves at them and Dean moves to her quickly. Castiel sees a flash of metal in her hand and he wonders briefly where she was hiding such a long needle.

He scrabbles to keep his hold on Dean’s shoulders when Dean lets go of his tail. It drops to the floor and Dean wraps his arms around Castiel’s waist, lifting him higher. Castiel finds himself practically face to face with Dean while his back is presented to Pamela. Her fingers are like the floating ice from the fish-box against his fans as she pushes them aside.

Dean’s holding Castiel’s eyes with his own, but he turns his head to shout over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on the upper decks!”

Sam and Jess are too distracted to translate the words now and everything is nonsense to Castiel.

“We don’t have enough ammo to shoot blindly into the rain, Dean!” Sam calls back through the rain.

Jess’s voice sounds farther away than before and Castiel wants to look up and make sure he can see her, but Dean is saying something with his eyes that Castiel can’t read. “Take the guards’ guns!”

“This might hurt a bit.” Pam says behind him, hand smoothing over his shoulder blade moments before he feels the press of the needle. “We should have done this inside.”

“No time.” Dean mumbles.

“We had plenty of time, you just didn’t want –”

“ _Focus_ , Pam.”

Castiel hisses at the bite of the needle and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying hard not to dig his claws into Dean’s back where he’s tangled his fingers in his shirt. He bites back a whimper at the burn as it presses under his skin. Dean shifts slightly until he’s only holding Castiel to him with one arm. The other, the one with the weird feeling blue-skin, slides up to the back of his neck. There’s a sharp twinge of pain at the base of his skull when his fingers push up into Castiel’s hair and encourages him to tip his head down until their foreheads are leaning together.

He can feel the gentle gust of Dean’s breath against his lips and with his eyes closed it’s almost exactly like the poison-dream. His tail twists and curls where it hangs to the floor, the end dragging back and forth over Dean’s feet. Castiel bites his lip when he thinks he actually _feels_ the moment that the needle finds the chip but everything is becoming a numb burn and he can’t really tell.

“Almost got it – don’t move now.”

Pamela’s words are nothing to Castiel’s side-fans. But he feels like the end of the needle _moves_ in his back, spreading out and stretching in the muscle. The world-breath is pushing cold against the back of his neck and Dean’s breath is warm over his mouth when he gasps in pain again. He feels more than he hears the whisper of his name and he’s not even sure when it actually happens but Dean’s rain slick lips are sliding under his own.

Castiel curls his tail around Dean’s hips. He breaks from the kiss for a ragged breath before fumbling back in with quick presses of his lips. Between each one he mumbles nonsense in his own language. He doesn’t use the kin-connection because this isn’t something Sam or Jess should hear. Even though Dean won’t understand it, Castiel tells him – on whispered breaths between kisses – about the poison-dream and the ache it leaves in his heart knowing that Dean won’t be there when he returns to the colony.

When Sam shouts Jess’s name and the kin-connection explodes brightly with a rush of his fear and anger, they break apart so suddenly Dean nearly drops Castiel. Pamela objects when Dean turns, moving Castiel with him. The sharp twinge in his back as the needle is pulled out harshly is nothing compared to the fear that makes his brain turn wispy, red creeping in at the edges of his vision. Jess is laying at the bottom of the stairs, slumped over the body of the other female guard. The rain makes it hard to tell, but Castiel is almost certain there’s a dart sticking out of her stomach.

Sam brushes past and Dean staggers back a few steps before he catches himself. Pamela grabs at Sam’s arm, pulling him to stop. The world-breath blows hard, sucking away their words and making Dean rock where he stands. Sam is struggling to get Pamela to let him go without hurting her, but she is steadfast and tugging him back.

She shouts something that Castiel thinks is a name, one that sounds familiar, and points at the stairs. Castiel follows her finger and his fans flare in surprise at the unknown man standing on the last step. He’s looking down at Jess dispassionately and twirling a dart-gun around his finger.

As soon as he sees him, Sam lifts his own weapon. There’s a constant stream of Jess’s name through the kin-connection, entwined with worry and rage and the name ‘Azazel’. Castiel knows he’s heard it before but he can’t remember exactly where or when. When the man looks up, a twisted grin on his face, Castiel would almost swear his eyes flash yellow in the light from the window.

“Howdy boys! Taking the pet for a morning walk are you?” He catches the spin of the dart-gun and levels it at Castiel, or maybe at Dean. “You can go ahead and put the Beast down now, Beauty.  I’m afraid you won’t be getting away _that_ easy.”

“Put down your gun, Azazel. And I swear to God if Jess is hurt, you’ll be chum before the week is out.” Sam’s words are almost as cold as his thoughts.

Pamela is standing in the space between Sam and Dean, the needle hanging loose in her fingers while one hand is stilling curled tight in Sam’s shirt. She tugs at it to get his attention. “Might want to rethink that decision. We’re a bit out matched here, don’t y’think?”

Castiel isn’t surprised to find that they’re surrounded when he looks around. There are guards pointing their own dart-guns down at them from the levels above and there are a few standing behind him. Dean’s back is to the railing and beyond that is the rolling dark of the sea, hard to distinguish from the black of the sky in the stinging rain.

He can feel Dean slide back slowly, barely noticeable with the rocking of the boat. Azazel makes a clicking noise and shakes his head, stepping closer. “Ah-ah-ah, Dean-o. Don’t go getting any stupid ideas now. You and yours are already in some deep shit and Lilith is going to eat your still beating hearts if you actually dump that thing overboard.”

Dean doesn’t look away from Azazel. “Pam?”

She lifts the needle and shields her eyes to look at the end. The smile barely manages to twitch at the corner of her lips before Dean is spinning. A sharp cry of surprise rips from Castiel’s throat when he hits the railing. It catches him hard in the hip but Dean keeps shoving him over. Castiel catches a glimpse of Sam and Pamela staggering before his world tilts.

He hits the water at a jarring angle that pulls at his fans painfully, but the rush of fresh sea water over his gills and the lack of walls around him is more disorienting than anything else. It takes a few moments of aimless floating before it finally clicks.

He’s _free._

Castiel has no idea where he is, but he has his freedom. He could turn toward home and swim and he won’t ever hit another glass-wall again. He could dive into the deep until there is no more light but his own and he would never again have to see by the human’s fake bright-pearls.

He breathes deep and crows his delight, twisting in thrilled circles that carry him under the boat and passed the helicopter-like blades that don’t move in the water. He turns his tail to the surface and rolls in excited summersaults toward the deep until a scent catches his attention, and something catches his eye.

His tail locks up, and his fans flatten in horror. Lightning flashes bright in the dark steady-blue and illuminates the shape of a human in the water. He’s not moving and the scent of blood is light, but he can easily detect it – as easily as any shark will. Castiel doesn’t know these waters, he doesn’t know if any of them inhabit this area. And he _knows_ the smell of that blood.

Castiel tears at the water with his hands, fingers spread wide for his webbing to catch as he paddles wildly. It adds just that little burst of speed to the thrashing of his tail. He doesn’t even stop to check if Dean is alright. He crashes into him at full speed, dragging him back toward the surface. He has no idea how long he’s been in the water or if he’s breathed any of it.

He forces Dean above the surface, his fins rolling to keep them from sinking as Dean’s head lolls against his shoulder. Castiel brushes away the few darts sticking out of his back. He doesn’t know what to do to make sure Dean is breathing or how to help him breath if he isn’t. He’s relieved beyond words when Dean coughs violently and gasps for breath all on his own.

Castiel looks up at the boat, drifting not too far away from where they float. He can see Azazel leaning against the railing and waving lazily with one hand. Azazel points toward the part of the boat this is wide and flat, like the end of the toothpaste container. It’s the same end that the helicopter-like blades were located under and Castiel thinks that might be the back of the boat.

He slips behind Dean, pulling his back to his chest. He loops his arms under Dean’s and swims backwards to ensure his head stays above water. With the rolling waves and the falling rain, it takes several long minutes before Castiel reaches the back of the boat. There’s a long flat platform dipping in and out of the water as the waves rock the ship. Castiel eyes it apprehensively, especially when a door in the wall behind the platform opens and Azazel is crouching there.

“I doubt you can understand me, beast that you are, but I’ll give you an ultimatum, yeah?” Azazel points at the both of them and then over his shoulder. “If you want him to be brought back on the boat, you need to come too. And you’ll be tranq-ed just as nice and pretty as your friends. How’s that sound?”

Castiel hisses, fans flaring. He shouts over the roar of the world-breath. “Help Dean!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say bright eyes. But you too. No guarantee I won’t shove him back overboard if you try and swim away.”

It is entirely too frustrating to try and figure out what Azazel is saying. Dean’s breathing is labored against his cheek and the sea is sucking the heat from his body. Castiel growls and he ducks below the water to chirp a few echoes, checking to make sure no sharks are coming. Satisfied, he rises again, and inspects Dean to ensure he is breathing. After that, he reaches out and brutally seizes at Azazel’s mind. Castiel keeps himself separated from the connection and he takes great pleasure in how Azazel reels back.

_(Save. Dean.)_

Azazel pulls himself up to the door, one hand pressing hard to his forehead. He struggles against the onslaught of Castiel’s hatred, trying to cope with the kin-connection. It’s shaky at first, but Azazel manages to provide an image of Dean safe on the boat and Castiel curled next to him. Next he gives an image of Dean alone and Castiel in the water, quickly followed by Dean being pushed back into the sea.

Castiel bares his teeth in a snarl. He understands all too clearly. If he’s to have his freedom, it would mean death for Dean. He almost wishes that the decision would harder to make. He uses his hip to buoy Dean above the waves, his tail lashing by his legs.

 _(Dean, Sam, Jess, Pamela, Bobby – none of them are to be harmed.)_ Castiel drifts closer to the platform, but still far enough that they risk losing him if he gets poisoned again.  He spreads his fans to their most aggressive width, and brightens his glow until it is nearly blinding. _(You will_ not _make me sleep. I will watch over them and ensure their safety. If you_ do _put me to sleep and I wake to them dead or gone, I_ will _destroy your mind worse than anything I have done to Lilith. I will shred your thoughts until there is nothing left and you are but a husk of a human. I will tear apart your boat until I find them, rending flesh from bone and thought from brain.)_

The promise of his rage courses dangerously through the kin-connection and Azazel visibly winces, both hands holding his head now.

_(Am I understood?)_

He nods repeatedly, grinning through the pain with a twist to his lips that drops a spike of unease down Castiel’s spine. “Yes, yes, whatever makes you happy. I’m getting soaked in this miserable weather, so how about you two get your tails up here now, hm?”

Azazel moves aside and someone appears with two braids of rope connected by small flat pieces that Castiel recognizes as the not-glass when he touches it. He weaves his hand around the ropes and the humans on the boat pull until Castiel and Dean are on the platform. Castiel pushes Dean toward the door and watches carefully, hissing whenever it looks like anyone might do Dean wrong.

He keeps a firm grip on Azazel’s mind, carefully watching every twitch and wince whenever he presses hard at it with his anger. Castiel refuses to let the humans touch him and he lifts and pulls himself through the door on his own, the fans of his tail slapping uselessly at the platform. Castiel drags himself next to Dean and folds his tail protectively over his hips, one hand on either side of his chest.

Castiel looks over his shoulder at the sea rolling beyond the door. His heart feels heavy, sitting tight and hard in his chest as the door closes. He shuts his eyes and drops his head, forehead resting against Dean’s chin.

He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the ocean again. 

 

 


	13. New Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll be a little out of it for awhile.” Sam pats his shoulder. “But you’ll get back to normal soon enough.”
> 
> The noise Dean makes sounds like it should be a laugh, but it sounds wrong. It sounds forced and painful. Sam and Jess look at each other and Sam glances at Castiel too. His fingers curl into the pillow and he frowns at Dean’s back. He doesn’t like the noise Dean made.
> 
> “Yeah, don’t think that’s gonna happen any time soon.” Dean mumbles into his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you. 
> 
> Happy Early Birthday to Bethany! 
> 
> I’ve redone the tumblr Out of the Deep page. It’s been broken down into a few others because it was getting too big and messy. Now we have [FanArt](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdfanart), [Fanfiception](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdfanfic) (Fanfic for a fanfic, seriously.), [Information](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdinfo), and [Extras](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdextras) (my extra drabbles).
> 
> Come and meet the [Finfamily](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/finfamily)! (The findom becomes fin-kin!)
> 
> To save space, I’ve messed with the height/width of the drawings. I would suggest seeing them in all their awesome by following the links on the Fanart page. 
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: gahyouresoawesome, superwholock-girl, dead-grin, wholesomesharts, outofmysanitycage, tigercat070, mcbenik, fishpoets, shaishart, lepullover, easy-is-the-decent, silent-asmodeus, hydraarill, mysterymind277, seraphlimonade, supernatural-black-hole, msmerc, carrionofmywaywardson, i-watch-the-bees, liataylor, anondoodler, and draconicanimagus. 
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Jess wakes first. Bobby is immediately across the room and by her bed at the first rustling of the blankets. Castiel looks up to watch their blurred images from the other side of the tank. He touches Jess’s mind just long enough to confirm that she isn’t hurt. She’s groggy and asking Bobby about Sam and about what happened.

Castiel ignores the rest of their conversation and leans his temple against the wall again. He’s curled in the corner of Dean’s bed and his tail is folded to support Dean’s shoulders while his head rests on the pillow in Castiel’s lap. He has one hand resting on Dean’s chest under the blankets that Bobby tucked tight around him.

Dean’s heartbeat is steady under his palm. It is reassuring, a reminder that Dean is still alive, despite the lack of thoughts when Castiel brushes over his mind. There are few emotions, and sometimes there are bright dances of dreams that don’t last very long. Dean’s dart-poison induced slumber is heavy and mostly dreamless and it makes Castiel nervous.

He had a very vivid dream when he had been poisoned. And when he checked on Sam or Jess, their minds suggested they were dreaming. If Pamela was here too, he would check on her. But Azazel had the guards take her to her room. He knows that Pamela is safe there. Castiel had not allowed Azazel to touch any of them until Bobby was found and Bobby had watched over the others during their transfer back to the rooms.

Castiel touches Dean’s forehead before smoothing his fingers back through his hair. There’s no physical or mental reaction to the brush of his fingers. According to the clock, they’ve been sleeping the whole day. Bobby leaves periodically to check on Pamela, staying away for half a rotation of the long hand on the clock before coming back to watch over Sam, Jess and Dean.

It worries Castiel that Alistair and Gordon haven’t shown their faces  yet. He knows that they’re out of the room that Bobby locked them in during the escape. When he asked, saying their names with his throat-voice, Bobby had only shrugged and shook his head. Even he doesn’t know and it makes Castiel twitch every time the door opens at Bobby’s return.

He watches Jess climb off the bed. Bobby helps her crawl over Sam and she staggers when she walks. Bobby leads her to one of the chairs by the computers. He pours water into a cup from a large, wavy-shaped bucket with a curved-pointed kind of spout on it and a handle on the side. Jess drinks it slowly, having to hold the cup with both hands to keep it steady.

Castiel hears his name in the words she mumbles while Bobby tilts her head back and checks her eyes. He looks over his shoulder and gestures with one hand, stepping out of the way for Jess to see. The disappointment is clear on her face and in the set of her shoulders as she slumps further in the chair. Castiel doesn’t need to touch her mind to know that Jess had been hoping he wasn’t going to be here when she woke up.

Bobby leaves again while Castiel is checking Dean’s temperature by slipping his fingers under the collar of the shirt he changed him into. The guards had carried Sam and Jess back to the room under Bobby’s watchful eye, but Castiel had refused to let anyone touch Dean. Castiel had been the one to bring Dean back to the tank room, curled tight around him on the trolley that Bobby had pushed. It had taken four of the guards and much maneuvering to get the trolley – with both Castiel and Dean on it – down the stairs.

The trolley had been taken away by Bobby not long after he’d helped Castiel transfer Dean onto the bed. But that was only after they had changed Dean out of his wet clothing. He had been shivering so badly and it had made him so worried. Castiel had gotten the clean clothes from the drawers, but Bobby had taken back the t-shirt to give him one that was thick and had long sleeves.

While Castiel had struggled to get Dean out of the blue-cast-sleeve and his shirt, Bobby had covered Dean’s  lap with a towel and removed his jeans and underpants. Bobby gave him another towel to rub Dean’s arms and his chest and hair with. Castiel had put the thick shirt on Dean before Bobby had even finished drying Dean’s legs under the cover of the towel. When Castiel had tried to help Bobby put the new pair of grey-pants on Dean, Bobby had stopped him from moving the towel and hadn’t let him help.

Castiel still doesn’t really understand why.

Dean’s skin is still cool and it worries Castiel. Is this normal for humans when they go in the ocean? Do they stay cold for this long all the time? He misses Dean’s heat. Castiel pushes the blankets back and leans over to check how cold Dean’s belly is. It’s much warmer than his collarbone, but still not like what Castiel knows. If he could, he would curl around Dean to keep him warm. But his own body is naturally cooler and Bobby had stopped him from trying to crawl under the blankets next to Dean.

Castiel replaces the blankets, making sure to fold the ends under Dean’s arms and sides to keep the warmth in. He hears the chair move and he looks up to watch Jess as she shuffles the chair across the room without getting up. She pulls up close to the bed and puts her hand on Dean’s forehead, and then on his cheeks and under his chin.

He reaches for her mind, keeping the touch light and gentle after her first wince. _(Is Dean okay?)_

 _(It seems like. His temperature isn’t high, like if he was fighting off a fever.)_ Jess pushes the chair to the end of the bed and pulls back the blanket to check his feet. _(He’s not blue or anything and his toes are only a little cold. He’ll be fine. Body temperature drops with sleep.)_

Castiel hums and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair again, the strands tickling against his webbing. _(Are you alright?)_

 _(I little foggy, but I’m fine.)_ She covers Dean’s feet again and when she looks up, Castiel drops his eyes. He doesn’t like the soft pity he can feel along the edges of her mind. _(I’m sorry you didn’t get away after all of that.)_

He shakes his head and puts up barriers against her emotions, to protect himself from her sympathies and her from his own. There’s been a hollow feeling in his chest since the last of the guards had left and he’d been left alone in the room while the others slept and Bobby was with Pamela. It’s an emptiness left by the taste of his freedom.

But he doesn’t regret his decision to save Dean’s life.

_(Bobby said he doesn’t know what happened. Can you tell me?)_

Castiel’s side-fans narrow and flatten. He doesn’t particularly want to talk about it, but he understand that they’ll want to know. And he fully expects Dean to be angry when he wakes up and finds Castiel still here.

He shares his memories with Jess from when Azazel shot her with the dart-gun to when Bobby was brought up on deck. When he’s done, she leans forward and takes his hands with her own.

 _(You could have swam away, but you saved us instead. Sam, Dean, Pam and I? We could be dead right now. Thank you, Castiel.)_ Jess squeezes his hands and Castiel tilts his head when she kisses his fingers before letting them go. _(We’ll find a way to get you out again and keep us safe too. Maybe we can steal one of the lifeboats and get to the mainland.)_

He lets a pulse of acknowledgement pass the walls around his mind, but he doesn’t share anything more. Castiel leans his head against the wall again and fits his hand under the blanket until he can feel Dean’s heartbeat again. Jess pushes herself, in the chair, back around small-sea and to the other side where she can check on Sam.

_(Is he okay?)_

_(I would say so. He’s making scrunching faces so he might wake up soon.)_

_(Dean was hit by more than one dart. Will that affect him worse? Will it make him sleep longer?)_

He barely makes out the shrug of her shoulders through the tank. _(Our tranquilizers are a special mix that Pam concocted. They’re pretty strong and knock you out fast, but the trial tests we ran with them before we set sail came back with little to no side-effects. You were hit with two in Lilith’s room and you’re fine. From what we’ve seen so far, your biology is pretty similar to ours. So Dean might be out longer, and he’ll probably be pretty woozy afterward, but I don’t think he’ll get sick from it. Just be thankful the guards were using those instead of guns with actual bullets.)_

 _(What are bullets?)_ Castiel drops the walls long enough for Jess to share her memories about all the different types of guns she knows.

He balks at the damage that the tiny metal bullets can do. His fingers slip over Dean’s chest to his shoulder and he can feel the welt from a dart through the thick fabric of his shirt. Castiel tries not to imagine what Dean’s shoulder would look like if he’d been hit by a bullet instead. Or whether or not he would even be alive.

The thought of Dean dead makes his stomach turn uncomfortably and his chest starts to feel too tight. For a few moments, it’s hard to breathe and his heart hurts. It takes Dean’s soft breaths brushing over his arm to calm the twisting horror in his chest. Castiel folds over and presses his forehead to Dean’s. He wants Dean to wake up, but at the same time he doesn’t because he knows Dean is going to be unhappy and he’s going to yell and Castiel doesn’t want to hear his loud words or feel his disappointment.

Bobby comes back with his arms full of white containers of food. He doesn’t leave Jess alone until she eats a bit, and Castiel refuses any of the food he offers to him. As good as the food tasted last time, Castiel is wary of how badly it had hurt his stomach.

He drops his connection with Jess and leans his head against the wall again. His fingers play absently through Dean’s hair and he watches the fish still swimming in small-sea for awhile. Hunger is pawing at his insides, but Castiel feels too tired and too sad to eat right now. He closes his eyes to the flash of coloured scales in the water and he tries to focus on anything that doesn’t remind him of his brief freedom or how it’s likely that Alistair is going to post guards outside the room now. He doesn’t even know when Lilith is going to return and he doesn’t expect anything good to happen after that.

Castiel focuses on the even rise and fall of Dean’s chest under his hand, and the quiet hush of his breathing. He doesn’t even notice when it lulls him to sleep.

x

The shifting of the bed wakes Castiel. He straightens and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The first thing he notices is that Dean is awake and sitting up, his back to Castiel. Sam is in a chair next to the bed and he’s talking softly, his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean is holding his head and his words are mumbled and too soft for Castiel to hear properly.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Sam holds his hand in front of Dean, his thumb, index and middle finger extended.

Dean shoves his hand away and slides to the edge of the bed until his feet touch the floor. “Not now, Sammy. M’arm hurts and m’head hurts. Just want food and painkillers and booze.”

“One, we’re not supposed to have booze on the boat. Two, you already drank through your whiskey stash when you had that nightmare. Three, if you do have more alcohol then mixing it with those pain killers is the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Sam gestures to Jess and she gets up from her chair at the ledge to bring over some food. “We can give you food and painkillers. But that’s all, okay?”

“M’not a baby, Sam. I c’n take of m’self.” His back bows and Dean leans forward until his chest touches his thighs. “Y’can make the world stop spinnin’ though.”

“Just have something to eat. Bobby brought crackers. He’s checking on Pam now. She’s fine too, by the way.”

Dean makes a soft noise of acknowledgement and accepts a few small pale squares from Jess. She sits on the bed next to him and rubs his back while he crunches the crackers. Castiel doesn’t move or reach out to Dean. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t want to say anything or do anything. Not yet. He reaches for Sam’s mind. His touch is accepted without issue and Sam translates what’s happened so far.

Jess gives Dean more of the squares and even though Dean grumbles unhappily at them, he keeps eating them. Sam pushes himself and the chair to the drawers and from the top one he pulls out a small white cylinder with a red end. He removes the red piece and shakes out a small white pearl. Castiel sits up straighter to watch him hand it to Dean. Jess gives him a cup and Dean puts the pearl in his mouth before drinking. He takes a deep breath when he gives the cup back and doubles over again to hold his head in his hands.

“You’ll be a little out of it for awhile.” Sam pats his shoulder. “But you’ll get back to normal soon enough.”

The noise Dean makes sounds like it should be a laugh, but it’swrong. It sounds forced and painful. Sam and Jess look at each other and Sam glances at Castiel too. Castiel’s fingers curl into the pillow and he frowns at Dean’s back. He doesn’t like the noise Dean made.

“Yeah, don’t think that’s gonna happen any time soon.” Dean mumbles into his hands.

“What are you talking about?”

“S’nothing.”

Jess looks from Dean to Castiel and back. “Does it have something to do with Castiel?”

Dean makes the same harsh laughing noise again and Castiel’s frown deepens. A heavy weight is settling in his chest again and Castiel wants to reach out and touch him. He wants to wrap himself around Dean and hold him tight until he won’t ever make that sound again.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Just tell me how fuckin’ screwed we are here. S’Pam okay?”

Sam has the same worried frown on his face as Jess does. A pulse of concern etches the edges of the kin-connection, because Sam already told Dean about Pam. “She’s fine. Bobby’s with her now. And none of us have heard from Alistair or even Lilith yet. There are guards outside, but they’re not stopping Bobby from getting us food or us going to the washroom or anything.”

“S’weird.” Dean grumbles, rubbing a hand through his hair. “How long I been out?”

“It’s Tuesday. Early afternoon.”

“Fuck.” His shoulders hunch more and Sam has to lean in closer to hear the next words he mumbles. “Y’think he’s home yet?”

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise. Is Dean talking about him? Doesn’t he know that he’s still here? The same questions are flickering bright in Sam’s mind.

“Is… Dean, are you talking about Castiel?”

He nods. “If he swam nonstop, y’think he’d get back home from here since yesterday mornin’?”

Jess pats his shoulder. “Doubtful. We don’t have any idea how fast he can swim and we’re several days north from the islands. He would have had to swim more than twice our speed to get there in less than two days.”

Sam’s lips are pressed into a thin line and he keeps looking from Dean’s bowed head and back to Castiel. _(I don’t think he knows you’re still here.)_

_(He didn’t see me when he woke up?)_

_(Doesn’t seem like it. You should… let him know that you’re still here, or something.)_

Castiel bites his bottom lip and his fingers twitch over the pillow. _(He’s going to be mad.)_

_(Probably, but it’ll just be worse the longer we don’t tell him and it’s going to be really bad if we wait until he turns around and sees you. And you’re literally right there, so, just… say ‘hi’.)_

Dean sighs and sits back up, rolling his shoulders. “Well I gotta piss and I wanna see how deep we’re in the shit.”

Castiel uncurls his tail and brushes the end against Dean’s hip. Dean nearly slips off the edge of the bed with how quickly he turns around. He gently touches his mind, wary of the anger he’s sure to be feeling. There’s surprise, disbelief, and a few interesting curls of what Castiel thinks might be relief. But to his surprise, there is no rage.

_(Hello, Dean.)_

_(Cas…?)_

Sam clears his throat and stands up. He pulls Jess up with him. “We’re going to go see Pam. You two, uh, talk. We’ll be back soon.”

Dean glances back at them as they leave before turning back to  Castiel. _(But you… I saw you hit the water. How are you – why are you –?)_

Castiel’s fins ripple lightly, barely moving at all. He’s been out of the water for hours now and the spines of his fans creak when they flex. He looks down at his hands on the pillow. _(You were in the water and Azazel wouldn’t take you back onto the boat unless I came too.)_

 _(But… you were free. You were_ free _,  Cas. You could have – you should have –)_

 _(I should have left you to die?)_ He snorts and the end of his tail whips quickly across the bed between them.

There’s surprisingly little anger pulsing across Dean’s mind. The sleep-fog is still heavy over his thoughts, but Dean’s emotions are contrasting. They come in waves of disbelief, then happiness, displeasure, then relief. Castiel looks up sharply when Dean stands and watches closely as he stumbles slightly.

_(What are you doing?)_

_(You’re too dry.)_ Dean gets the bucket from the door and goes to the platform to fill it.

Castiel slides to the floor and waits there for Dean to return with the full bucket and the cup. Dean doesn’t look at him as he starts pouring the water over his scales. The water is cool and it’s almost relaxing to feel it pool in the folds of his fins. Dean abandons the cup and starts using his hands again, working the water into the soft adipose until it’s pliant and they ripple without issue under his touch.

_(You were free.)_

He hums in acknowledgement and leans forward so Dean can pour water over his back-fans. _(And you would have died if I’d left. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make. You shouldn’t belittle my choice.)_

 _(I’m not – just… you were_ free. _You were out and you were in the water and it’s my fault you’re stuck here. If I hadn’t gone over, you would be long gone.)_ Guilt makes the edges of the kin-connection tremble and Dean’s thoughts twist in unhappy circles. _(And now they know as long as I’m at risk you won’t just leave me and – God – who knows how they’ll use that to keep you in line.)_

Castiel flexes his back-fans when Dean moves on to his side-fans. He tilts his head and suppresses shivers whenever Dean’s fingers brush the webbing. The water is cool on his skin when it drips over his neck and shoulders.

 _(They wanted to shoot me with the dart-gun too, but they didn’t.)_ A purr starts to rumble in his chest when Dean turns his head to the other side to work water into the other side-fan. The touches are soothing and the unhappy knot that’s been sitting in his chest for the last two days starts to unravel. _(If it means keeping you and the others safe, I’m willing to use the kin-connection to make sure no one hurts you again.)_

Dean’s fingers pause and Castiel pushes his head against his hands, a silent request to continue. _(Are you talking about what you did to Lilith?)_

 _(Yes.)_ Castiel replays the memories for him of everything he did and told to Azazel.

There’s a sharp inhalation behind him and a subtle awe from Dean seeps over the kin-connection. Castiel nudges his hands again, rubbing his side-fan against the slack fingers. But Dean’s hands pull away and Castiel looks over his shoulder in confusion.

Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at him. _(That’s… really badass.)_

_(I don’t understand that term.)_

_(It means you’re really, really awesome.)_ Dean picks up the cup again and dumps the water directly over the top of Castiel’s head.

He splutters and shakes the water out of his eyes before glaring up at him, side-fans flaring unhappily. Dean grins and smoothes the curls of Castiel’s hair back off his forehead. _(Hey, Cas?)_

_(Hm?)_

_(What were you saying before?)_ Memories surface of Castiel’s words during the kiss yesterday morning.

His adipose fins ripple in surprise and he turns away when he feels heat rise in his cheeks. He ducks his head and shifts away when Dean leans closer. Castiel pulls up barriers in the kin-connection and hides behind them, using them to shield Dean from his insincerity. _(It was nothing. A goodbye.)_

He doesn’t want to talk about it. Castiel doesn’t know if he kissed Dean, or if Dean kissed him. But he does know he didn’t pull away because he wanted to. He wanted to have another kiss because it could have been his last and it would have definitely been his last with Dean. He hunches his shoulders and shifts uncomfortably, his tail curling under him.

Dean stands and moves the bucket of water. Castiel can feel Dean’s curiosity pushing at the walls around his mind, but there’s no questions being asked and it just makes Castiel nervous. He watches Dean’s reflection in the glass-wall while he moves the bucket. Dean’s movements are slower than usual and he stumbles a few times.

 _(You’re still affected by the dart-poison?)_ He turns to watch Dean fully and brushes a questioning touch over his mind. There’s still a muddled fog laying over his thoughts.

 _(Yeah, kinda, I guess.)_ He comes back to crouch in front of him, hands out. _(C’mon, let’s get you back up on the bed. The floor can’t be that comfortable.)_

Castiel shifts and leans away. _(I can do it myself.)_

Dean raises an eyebrow and the constant curiosity turns to confusion. _(It’ll be easier if I lift you.)_

 _(Easier, yes. But I don’t want to.)_ Castiel turns and grabs handfuls of the sheet.

He curls his tail under him and pushes up while pulling, trying to drag himself back onto the bed. He doesn’t want Dean to lift him like that again. The last time they were face to face like that, he’d kissed Dean or Dean had kissed him and he can’t let that happen again. He’s already talking to Dean like he told himself he wouldn’t and he’s angry for forgetting that.

_(I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this. I’m just helping you up.)_

Castiel’s tail knocks into Dean’s leg in surprise when arms curl around his waist and lift. He’s guided up and forward until he can pull his tail up after him. He settles on his stomach, stretched out along the wall and he drapes the end of his tail over the top of the drawers. He pulls the pillow under his head and rests his cheek on it.

Dean’s confusion is still bright, overlaying an anxiety that pricks along the edges of the kin-connection. Castiel pulls at the unease, trying to see it better. He can’t think of anything immediate for Dean to be nervous about right now. Dean doesn’t protest and offers up the feeling and the reasons behind it without issue.

He’s surprised to find that Dean is paranoid that he did something to upset Castiel. His fans flex at the thought because Dean hasn’t done anything. It’s all Castiel’s own issues. If he’d never gotten so close to Dean in the first place, he never would have been manipulated into staying by being worried about Dean’s safety.

Circles. Everything is going in circles and he hates it. Why can’t things be simple? Everything back at the colony had been so simple. Now every day is different and new and he doesn’t know what to expect or what to do. There’s so many things he wants now, and most of them he shouldn’t even want to begin with.

He lets the walls drop long enough for Dean to sense the turmoil that’s making a mess of his thoughts. Dean’s confusion only increases, but the anxiety wanes.

_(So you’re not mad at me?)_

Castiel snorts and looks up at where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. _(Why would I be mad at you?)_

_(You gave up your chance at freedom to save my ass. I figured that might piss you off a bit.)_

_(I’m unhappy that I got to taste the ocean again and had that taken away. But if I’m angry with anyone, it’s with Azazel for using you against me. I am not mad at you.)_

Dean’s relief washes through the kin-connection and he lets out a breath. _(Well, that’s good.)_

They settle into silence for several minutes. It’s an uncomfortable one that makes Castiel feel like there’s an itch under his skin. He’s not sure what to do now or how he’ll escape again. He’s tired, and hungry, and he wants to sink into small-sea – despite how much he hates its glass-walls – and find solace in the cool embrace of the water. But he wants to stay by Dean, to curl around him and soak in his warmth and keep him safe.

The tension eases slightly when Dean takes one of the blankets and folds it at the head of the bed before stretching out next to Castiel. The bed is too small for there to be any space between them and Castiel is comforted by the small warmth he can feel through Dean’s clothes. It’s more than before and he thinks that must mean Dean is getting better. The end of his tail slips from the drawers to fold over Dean’s feet. Toes flex and rub against the webbing of his end-fans.

There are questions brewing under the surface of the poison-fog layering Dean’s mind. Castiel can sense the near insatiable curiosity tingeing the edges of the kin-connection. He doesn’t pull upon them and Dean doesn’t offer them.

The quiet is broken by the beep of the door.

Dean sits up and Castiel twists to see who’s coming in. The moment Alistair steps around the door, Castiel’s fans flare wide and his hisses. He drags himself over the bed until he’s between Dean and Alistair. It means he’s leaning heavily across Dean’s legs, but it’s all he can manage at the moment. He bares his teeth in a snarl and a growl rumbles low in his throat.

“Afternoon, boys. Sleep well?” Alistair’s smug voice makes Castiel’s skin crawl and hisses again. If the lights were down enough for it, his glow would be bright and threatening.

Dean pulls at his arm. _(Cas y’gotta get off me, I can’t do any-)_

_(Tell him to leave! Tell him to leave or I’ll do to him what I did to Lilith and promised I’d do to Azazel!)_

Dean hesitates before he repeats the message. It only makes Alistair laugh. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. In light of recent events, Lilith’s got a few new rules she’d like you to be made aware of and I’m just here to deliver the message.”

Castiel frowns as Alistair grabs one of the chairs and drags it closer. He stops when Castiel’s growl grows loud and he sits on it the wrong way, his arms crossing over the back.

“What kind of rules are we talking about?”

“Rules that make your lives easier while ensuring your boyfriend there doesn’t mind fuck the rest of us into next week for looking at you the wrong way.”

Dean’s fingers tighten around Castiel’s arm and the hard edge of the blue-white cast on his arm digs against his elbow. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Alistair smirks and Castiel’s fins ripple unhappily. It’s an unsettling expression that makes his stomach flip in nervous loops. “So all that cuddling and kissing is just platonic then? Careful, Dean, the rest of us might get jealous.”

Castiel’s fans flex at Dean’s translation images and the idea of Dean sharing his bed with anyone else – especially with Alistair – makes something dark and ugly twist and burn hard in his chest. The sheets tear under his claws and he hisses again.

“Relax, pet, anyone who wants to fuck your boyfriend probably already has. Now shut up, sit back and look nice and pretty while I tell you what your master wants to happen.”

Dean’s displeasure vibrates angrily through the kin-connection. “Spit it out and get the fuck out.”

Alistair shrugs and waves a hand, brushing away the comment. “Lilith’s not pleased about your little escape attempt and she’s given us full permission to pull out the real guns and turn them on your friends here if you ever hit the water again.”

His insides turn cold at the thought of bullets and what they could do to Dean. He flips his tail back and wraps it around Dean’s waist, his end-fans and adipose fins stretching wide to cover Dean defensively. He can feel Dean’s rising worry about his brother and friends and Castiel immediately calms them with soothing thoughts, reassuring Dean that he won’t do anything that will get them hurt.

“But now Lilith is willing to let you roam about. You can go anywhere on the boat that someone can carry you to. Even the deck, so you can go bask in the sun or whatever it is you do. As long as you don’t go overboard and force us to redecorate in red, she’s happy.”

The news does not make Dean happy. His wariness of Lilith’s new rules is a constant thrum through their link. “Why? Why’s she changing her mind all of a sudden?”

Alistair shrugs, his smug smirk never shifting. “She wants her pet to be happy and he’s not happy when you’re not happy and you’re not happy when you’re both cooped up in here. So go, stretch your legs, show him the engines and your old bunk. Toss him in the shower and wash his damn hair. We don’t really care. But you will be watched and you will be escorted everywhere.”

“But why does she care now?”

“She didn’t say.” Alistair stands and shoves the chair back toward its place. He straightens his white coat before going to the door. “Oh, but she did say that she’ll be coming back tomorrow afternoon. And when she does, I get to play with her pet all evening. I’m very good, so don’t you worry too much about scars.”

The door beeps shut behind him and Castiel hisses at it. _(I’ll shred his mind before he gets anywhere near me with his knives.)_

Dean’s lack of a response is worrying and Castiel twists to look back at him. He’s frowning down at his lap, but his eyes are unfocused. When he touches his thoughts, they’re still circling around Lilith’s new rules.

_(She’s gotta be up to something, Cas. There’s no reason for her to be letting up on your leash after what we pulled yesterday. She’s planning something worse than Alistair getting at you and I don’t know what, but I don’t like it.)_

Anxiety settles in his chest, spreading out to pluck at his bones and squeeze at his insides. Dean wiggles his arm out from where it’s pinned to his side by Castiel’s tail and he spread his fingers over the back of Castiel’s neck. It’s a heavy, reassuring touch.

_(I know I’ve been complete shit at keeping you safe so far. But I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure whatever Lilith’s planning doesn’t happen. I’ll sink the whole damn ship before that if I have to, okay?)_

Castiel nods, but tightens his tail. If they sink the ship, what’ll happen to Dean and the others? How will they be safe? He doesn’t know how long humans can swim before they get too tired. Would they be able to make it to the nearest landmass? He doesn’t even really know where they are in relation to his colony and his plan for getting home had been to swim in the opposite direction of the boat.

Dean winces and pulls at Castiel’s tail. _(What is it with you and squeezing me when I’ve gotta piss. Will you be okay alone for a bit? I wanna go take a leak and I wouldn’t mind a warm shower.)_

His fans flare in surprise. He can’t keep Dean safe if he goes about alone. If Alistair or Azazel or Gordon get him while Castiel isn’t there, they could keep Dean away and only let Castiel see him if he listens to what they say. He needs Dean to stay with him or with Sam or Jess or Bobby or Pamela, or anyone who won’t let anything bad happen.

His panic swells through the kin-connection and Dean winces. _(Whoa, Cas, calm down. I just want to go to the bathroom.)_

 _(Then I’m coming too.)_ His determination burns bright through the kin-connection. _(I can keep watch while you do whatever it is that you humans do in this ‘bathroom’.)_

Dean’s eyebrows raise and his lips pinch together in something that looks like a frown, but has the potential to be some sort of smile. _(There’s so much wrong with that I don’t even know where to begin. But for starters, I don’t think I’m coordinated enough right now to get us both from here to there without falling on my face or dropping you down the stairs.)_

_(Get the guards to bring the trolley. It’ll get us to the stairs and I can go down them on my own.)_

He shakes his head and frowns. _(You’ll just get dirty. There’s so much traffic on those stairs that the janitor doesn’t bother keeping them clean.)_

 _(This ‘bathroom’ is where you go to get clean, isn’t it? I can clean my scales there.)_ Castiel runs a hand over his hip and frowns.

His scales are not nearly as glossy as they should be. They feel dull and gritty. It’s been well over a week since he did a proper cleaning and it’ll be difficult to do here with just his hands and none of the tools he needs. And he won’t be able to clean his back-fans or the scales over the swell of his tail below the curve of his back.

_(I know the bathroom is communal, but seriously, I can’t just drag you in there and leave you sitting out while I shower. Anyone could come in.)_

_(You can lock the door, can’t you?)_

_(Well, yeah, but that’s not fair to the others if they’ve got to use the facilities.)_

_(Then we’ll clean ourselves quickly.)_

Dean groans and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. _(Seriously, Cas, I’ll be back in twenty minutes, tops. I’ll even go find Sam or Jess to come and stay with you.)_

He lets his anxiety and fear for Dean’s safety flow through the kin-connection. Castiel practically pushes his against the edges of Dean’s mind, trying to stress how much he’ll worry if Dean goes anywhere alone. His hopes that he’ll understand are brushed aside with a burst of irritation.

 _(I’m not some wilting flower, Cas. I can take care of myself long enough to go take a piss. If you don’t want me gone for long, let me go do that and then I’ll come back for you to take you to the showers.)_ Dean starts pulling harder at Castiel’s tail, trying to unwrap it from around his waist. _(I won’t even be five minutes to pee, I swear. I’ll run there and run back.)_

Castiel narrows his eyes and Dean rolls his. _(I’ll tell whatever guards are outside to get the trolley and bring it in. You can mind-whammy them if they pull anything weird and you’ll be in my head the whole time I’m gone. If anything happens to me, you’ll know.)_

_(I’ll know but I won’t be able to do anything to help.)_

_(Nothing’s going to happen – Alistair just said so, didn’t he? We can go where we want, do what we want, as long as we don’t throw you overboard again. Please, Cas, I really have to go!)_

The urgency colours Dean’s words and images with bright flares and Castiel begrudgingly uncoils from around him as he moves off his legs. Dean smiles bright and he wobbles only slightly when he stands. _(Two minutes. Three at the most. Then I’ll be right back and I’ll take you to the showers. Just promise you won’t peek.)_

Castiel looks up at him, confusion marring the edges of their link. _(Peek at what?)_

Dean huffs a little laugh, a much better sound than the unhappy, broken noise from before and gets a flat white square out of the jeans that Bobby left in a pile at the base of the drawers. _(Nothing, nothing. I’ll be right back.)_

Before the door shuts, Castiel hears Dean’s voice asking the guards for the trolley. There are heavy pounding noises and then the door beeps when it’s closed. Castiel pulls himself up behind the drawers at the end of the bed and rests his arms on the top of it. He stares at the door and waits. He tries very hard not to interrupt Dean while he does whatever it is humans do when they ‘go to the bathroom’.

It doesn’t even feel like more than a minute before Dean’s thoughts brush over his mild unease. _(See? Already done and on my way back. Nothing’s happened and nothing’s gonna happen. Coming upstairs now.)_

Castiel moves to the edge of the bed and draws circles on the floor with the tip of his tail while he waits. The door beeps as it opens and the trolley comes through first before Dean does. He leaves the door open and Castiel slips from the bed to the cool metal of the low platform. Dean helps him tuck his adipose fans in close again.

A new scent tickles at his nose and he grabs Dean’s hands when he starts to stand up. He sniffs at his palms and the cloying, sweet smell that lingers on his skin. Castiel wrinkles his nose and looks up at Dean. _(Why do your hands smell different now?)_

 _(Soap. I washed my hands after. I’ll smell different from head to toe once I take a shower.)_ Dean straightens and the whole trolley lurches when he pulls it back, turning it so Castiel faces the door.

 _(Why?)_ He takes the new clothes, a roll of blue, and the small brown pouch that Dean gets from the drawers.

_(Water doesn’t really clean us off completely. Soap breaks down the stuff on our skin that water doesn’t. Most companies give it a nice scent.)_

Castiel snorts and shakes his head. _(I don’t like the fake-smell. It makes my nose itch. I like the way you smell normally.)_

Something warm that Castiel can’t really identify seeps through the kin-connection from Dean before it gets snapped up and hidden. He thinks it could have been a pleased kind of pride, but he can’t be sure. _(I think Sam uses unscented stuff. I could borrow his if you want?)_

_(Don’t change your habits on my account, Dean.)_

_(Hey, it’s cool. If you’re gonna be a cuddle-buddy I can’t have my body-wash making you sneeze.)_ Dean pushes the trolley passed the guards and Castiel turns to watch as they follow closely behind them. _(Ignore them, Cas. Shit, how am I going to get you down the stairs?)_

_(I told you I can –)_

Dean hushes him, blanketing his thoughts. _(I’m not letting you slide down like that. It’s gross and you could cut yourself or something. I’ll just carry you and go really slow.)_

 _(No. Don’t carry me.)_ Castiel doesn’t want Dean to carry him again. He’s not scared that Dean will trip and drop him. He’s  wary of what he might do if placed in the same position as yesterday.

One of the guards walks passed them to get to the door first. Castiel is a little taken aback when he holds it open for the trolley to go through. Dean squeezes the trolley onto the platform between the stairs that go up and the stairs that go down. He can still smell the acrid tang of the smoke from yesterday, but the air isn’t funny coloured and it doesn’t hurt to breathe it today.

 _(Why are you so against me carrying you, huh? It’ll be easier than working this damn thing down the stairs and the bathroom is practically right outside the stairwell.)_ Dean crouches next to him and reaches to hook one arm under Castiel’s tail and the other around his back.

Castiel holds the bundle of clothes tightly to his chest and flattens his tail to the trolley so there is no crease for Dean to put his arm. He presses back into the metal bar he’s leaning against too and shakes his head. Irritation makes waves through their link and Dean sits back on his heels. _(Christ. What did I do that set you off this time?)_

He shakes his head again and curls the end of his tail up, distracting himself from looking at Dean by flaring his end-fans. Dean’s confusion and irritation make dark eddies against the edges of his mind where they collide with the walls protecting his thoughts.

_(Well either we can sit here until you decide to tell me what’s wrong, or I’ll just take my stuff and you can wait here until I’m done my shower. Up to you, Cas.)_

Castiel turns a sharp glare on him, disapproval flicking over his walls to snap at Dean’s thoughts. Dean retaliates with his own ire, smashing it against Castiel’s walls. They stare hard at each other until one of the guards clears his throat and startles Dean out of their silent battle of wills.

He rubs his hands through his hair. _(Cas, this is hard for me, okay? I’m not the best  at keeping friends. And you’re the most… the most different person I’ve ever met. You throw me for a loop with practically everything you do. If we’re going to be friends, y’gotta tell me when something I does bothers you. Even with this link we got going where you’re in my head and I’m in yours, you keep holding back so much and I’m putting out everything I think you’d be okay to handle – and fuck have I been wrong on some occasions. But you go off the deep end from the weirdest things and it’s usually something physical or sexual – but I actually don’t know what’s wrong this time. You gotta at least tell me, so I can stop whatever it is that I’m doing and make things okay again.)_

He pauses and scratches at the back of his head. _(This is verging on a chick-flick moment and I know you don’t understand what that is, but it’s something I don’t really don’t like doing much. So could you just_ tell _me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again?)_

Castiel swallows thickly and stares down at the bundle pressed tightly to his chest. There’s a twisting feeling behind it at Dean’s words, and it’s sinking lower in his gut. He doesn’t like that he’s the one who’s made Dean feel so indecisive and confused.

 _(Yesterday…)_ He starts and then stops, keeping himself from raising the memory. Castiel doesn’t want to think about kissing Dean. It’s just going to make him want to do it again and he’s lost count of how many times he’s promised himself that he won’t think about that or do it anymore.

_(You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. A lot of stuff happened yesterday.)_

Castiel frowns at Dean before starting again. _(Yesterday, when Pamela was removing the chip from my back. I… We…)_ He waves his hand in a vague gesture, hoping Dean understands. The sudden absence of confusion confirms that Dean does get his meaning. _(I’m… We shouldn’t have – I thought it would be the last time and –)_ Castiel makes  noise of frustration in the back of his throat. _(I’m not sure that I won’t do it again if we end up in the same position as yesterday.)_

Dean is quiet for several moments. Castiel doesn’t dare look at him and he’s surprised when Dean pushes his tail out of the way to sit on the edge of the trolley. _(Okay. If I’m getting this right, you don’t want me to pick you up because you think I’m going to kiss you again?)_

_(Wasn’t I the one who kissed you?)_

_(I’m pretty sure that I’m the one who kissed you. But it doesn’t matter. The point is, Cas, if you want to kiss me, you can. I’m not going to complain and I’ll be a willing participant. Enthusiastic, even.)_ Dean tilts his head, trying to catch Castiel’s eye. _(I know this is too many kinds of ‘new’ for you to even think about counting – but I gotta say, you’re over thinking things.)_

Castiel shuffles the items in his arms and looks away. _(You’re misunderstanding me, Dean. My issue with kissing you doesn’t lie solely in the physical aspects. I can’t… separate my emotions as easily as you seem to be able to. I’m… If we continue to do that – I want to go home and you can’t come with me and I can’t stay here. My attachment to you is already something that others are manipulating and I’m –)_ He stops and sighs, the end of his tail dropping heavily over the edge of the trolley.

_(You’re scared.)_

He bares his teeth at the term, but nods. It’s a shameful thing to admit. Castiel is a warrior of the colony. He’s a tactician that has seen many battles and faced each of them with full acceptance that he or members of his garrison might die. But he’s never been more afraid for someone’s life – aside from his nest-siblings – than he is for Dean’s.

_(Stop over thinking things, Cas. Yes, it sucks the big one that they’re using our feeling against us. It’s pretty much the lowest blow anybody can give, but we’ll work around it. We’ll get us all out of here at some point. And if you want to kiss me, than go ahead. But don’t let some sons-of-bitches fuck us over on one of the few nice things we can have, okay?)_

Dean’s fingers are fleeting where they touch Castiel’s arm. _(So let’s, you and me, keep this simple. Do you want to kiss me?)_

Castiel nods slowly, looking from Dean’s eyes to his lips and back.

_(Do you want me to kiss you?)_

He nods again.

_(Will us kissing make you want to do more things with me?)_

Castiel shrugs. He’s not exactly sure what ‘more things’ would entail, but he can hazard a guess and he’s honestly undecided whether or not that’s something he wants right now.

_(Will kissing make whatever you’re feeling for me worse?)_

_(I… don’t know.)_

Dean sighs and leans forward until his forehead bumps against Castiel’s. _(Do you want to try it? How about a trial run? Just for the rest of the day. You kiss me whenever you want and if you think it’s too much we can stop and just go back to being – well –_ this _. If you think you’re safe and you can keep the physical and the emotional properly separated, then we can go ahead and keep at it until we get you off this boat again. How does that sound?)_

Castiel sucks in a quiet breath and shakes his head. _(I don’t know. Do you even – are you –)_

_(Do you really want to know the answer to that?)_

He does, and he doesn’t. If he knows how Dean feels, if he knows what that warmth that sings along the edges of the kin-connection really is, he might lose himself completely in just this testing period. If he knows that he could have Dean as his and his alone, would he be able to let him go when the time comes?

He doesn’t know. How would he ever know unless it happens?

One of the guards clears their throat again and Dean sits back sharply, turning cold eyes to them. “Yeah, yeah. Give us a sec.”

Castiel wraps the clothing around the blue roll and the brown pouch before tucking it against his stomach. He folds his tail up to his chest, pinning the bundle in place. When Dean picks him up, he’s careful to hold as much weight off Dean’s broken arm as he possibly can. One of the guards goes ahead of them and the other follows a few steps behind as they go down the stairs. Dean goes sideways, taking the steps slowly.

They exit the stairwell and out into a new hallway. Castiel’s fans flare in surprise and Dean gives an annoyed huff when his side-fan catches him in the cheek. There are people Castiel doesn’t know standing along the walls talking, or going in and out of the many doors that are lining the wall. There are so many voices in the air that Castiel is briefly reminded of home before everything falls silent. All the humans stop and stare at Castiel and Dean.

 _(Just ignore them.)_ Dean presses calm into the kin-connection against the nervous edge that starts to thrum over the borders of his mind. He jerks his chin at one of the guards. “You want to make sure there’s no one in the showers? We’re going to lock up in there for a bit so no one can bother us.”

The man frowns. Castiel doesn’t know his name and his close-cut yellow hair is eerily similar to the other guard standing on Dean’s other side. He thinks short-yellow might object to being ordered around by Dean, but he turns around without a word and pushes open a door with symbols scratched into it.

There is a triangle with little lines falling from its bottom. Beneath that is a circle with a line coming out of the bottom and there are four lines coming off that one line. Next to that there is another circle resting on the pointed top of a triangle and there are two lines sticking out from the bottom of the triangle.

When he points the symbols out to Dean, he learns that they are the symbols for ‘showers’ and ‘man’ and ‘woman’. It means that the shower room can be used by both sexes.

_(But why does the symbol for females have a triangular body? Females do not have triangle bodies.)_

_(It’s supposed to look like a dress, or a skirt. They’re really old symbols from way back to the time when women only wore dresses.)_

_(Why would they only wear dresses? Did they not like wearing pants?)_

_(That’s just how it was. I’m not giving you a history lesson, Cas.)_

Castiel huffs in disappointment. _(Humans are weird.)_

 _(Yeah, tell me about it.)_ There is a moment’s pause where Castiel gathers his thoughts before Dean continues. _(That’s just a figure of speech. Don’t actually tell me about it.)_

_(Oh.)_

A few females come out of the door. They’re both wearing white towels wrapped around their bodies and on the tops of their heads. When the first sees Castiel, she stops so suddenly the other walks into her back and they both stumbled forward.

“Afternoon ladies.” Dean nods his head at them and Castiel mimics the movement. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to commandeer the showers for a little bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

The females are staring at Castiel’s tail and his fans, their mouths hanging open wide. He shifts uncomfortably against Dean’s chest, arms tightening over his shoulders. He hasn’t been looked at like this since his first few days on the boat and he doesn’t like it. Dean nods again and goes through the door sideways like he did on the stairs. The guard holds it open for them and it shuts behind him after they’re inside.

The room is large and misty and filled with many smells that make Castiel’s nose itch like the soap on Dean’s hands. There are two rows of low ledges going down the center of the room. On the wall opposite the door are mirrors above higher ledges. Both sides of the room have five sheets – ten in total – hanging from the ceiling. Some of the sheets are pulled to the side, revealing hidden alcoves.

Dean sets Castiel down on one of the low-ledges and he twists to keep looking around. The floor in here is different from the floor he’s used to. It’s shiny and white and broken up into little squares. It feels smooth under the folds of his fans when his tail drapes over the edge of the ledge and curls on the ground.

No sooner has Dean locked the door -  the guards on the other side - does someone knock on it with loud, thudding bangs that make the both of them jump.

Castiel sits up straighter but relaxes the moment Sam’s voice calls through the door. “Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“What are you doing?”

“Gonna take a shower.” Dean isn’t wearing shoes and he frowns down at his bare toes before shrugging.

“With Castiel?”

He pulls his shirt off, moving carefully with the hard cast over his left arm. “Yeah. He didn’t want to be left alone in the room. It’ll be fine. Hey, you got that unscented stuff, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow it? Cas doesn’t like scented soaps and I don’t want him to sneeze all over me later.”

There’s a moment or two before Sam answers again. “Jess is getting it, just a sec.”

“Awesome, thanks. Do you have any books that we could start teaching Cas to read with? You could take them up to the room and we’ll meet you there when we’re done in here. We’re going to be pretty bored til Lilith gets back tomorrow so I figured we could pass the time that way.”

“Yeah… Sure, Dean. We’ll bring some stuff up.” He pauses a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay? How are you feeling?”

Dean shrugs even though Sam can’t see him. “Little foggy still. But no worse than usual. How’s Pam and Bobby?” He grins at Castiel over his shoulder as he starts to untie the white string looped at the front of his grey-pants.

“Fine. Worried about you two. We heard Alistair dropped in – got the stuff, Dean.”

He unlocks the door and opens it. Castiel waves at Jess and Sam as they lean around Dean. Sam looks between the both of them. “What about your cast? You need help with the vacuum sleeve?”

“If I do, Cas can help me. I’m just a little broken boned, Sam. I’m not an invalid.” Dean takes a few oddly coloured cylinders from Jess. “Thanks  guys. I’ll see you upstairs later and we’ll fill you in on what happened with Alistair.”

They say a few more quick words, mostly about being careful with his cast, before Dean shuts and locks the door again. He settles on the bench with a leg on either side and lines up the three cylinders between them.  The first one, he pushes at one side of the knobbed end and it shifts, revealing a little hole. Dean holds it out.   _(How’s this smell?)_

Castiel sniffs at the opening. There’s a faint scent, but nothing overwhelming like the hand soap. All three cylinders – which Dean calls ‘bottles’ – pass the test and Dean sets them aside. He takes the blue-roll and unravels it, revealing an oblong white thing that when he gives it to Castiel and Castiel squeezes it, air puffs out the ends.

The blue-roll is another blue-sleeve like Dean was wearing yesterday. Castiel helps him slide it over the cast and up his arm until his fingers fill the spaces for them at the end. Dean takes the oblong-white and attaches it to a clear piece sticking out of the blue-sleeve near his elbow. He squeezes the oblong-white, and with every squish-wheeze noise the blue-sleeve gets tighter against his skin. Castiel watches closely, intrigued.

Dean tries to explain that the white-thing is a ‘pump’ and that it is sucking the air out from under the blue-sleeve. Castiel doesn’t understand what a ‘vacuum’ is and he doesn’t really care. Dean gives the oblong-white back to Castiel and flexes his fingers and his arm.

 _(Yeah, that should do it.)_ He stands and stretches before pointing to the alcove directly in front of Castiel. _(I’m going to shower in there. Do you want me to sit  in one of the other stalls and turn it on for you to soak in while I wash up?)_

Castiel nods and watches as Dean pulls the sheet aside for the alcove next to the one he indicated as his. Dean turns some shiny mental knobs and there’s a sputtering noise before water starts pouring from a half-cylinder sticking from the wall above Dean’s head. Castiel slips to the floor and drag-pushes himself to Dean’s side. He curls around his legs and reaches out to feel the water hit his skin. It’s almost too hot and Castiel hisses, recoiling quickly.

 _(Sorry! Here.)_ Dean turns the knobs again. _(Try now?)_

The water is cooler and more reminiscent of small-sea when Castiel feels it again. Dean angles the wall-cylinder so that most of the water is falling straight down into the center of the alcove instead of against the opposite wall.

_(See this circle in the floor? Don’t block it. It’s the drain and that’s where the water goes out. If you let the water build up, it’s going to leak and cause all sorts of problems.)_

Castiel nods and slides into the alcove. He settles against the walls under the spray and double checks to make sure that his tail is looped around the drain but isn’t covering it. He blinks up at Dean through the water that reminds him of the rain from yesterday morning. Thinking about the rain makes him think of the kiss and he leans out of the shower-rain.

_(Dean.)_

He’s leaning into his own alcove and Castiel can hear the other spray start up. _(Yeah?)_

_(I want to kiss now.)_

Dean’s laugh echoes strangely off the white squares on the floor and the walls of the alcoves. _(Yeah, okay. Just give me a moment.)_ He gets one big and one very small square towel and hangs the big one outside his alcove. He puts the small-square and Sam’s bottles inside before kneeling in front of Castiel. Amusement and something that feels a little like anticipation twists over the kin-connection. Castiel’s heart feels like it’s going too fast in his chest and he’s not sure if he should be watching Dean’s lips or keep looking at his eyes when he leans closer.

_(Close your eyes, Cas.)_

He nods and does what Dean tells him, pressing into the gentle slide of fingers over his jaw. The first touch of Dean’s lips is soft and barely there. Castiel chases after the light brush, following it as it pulls away. He can feel Dean’s smile against his mouth and then Dean tilts his chin up and the kiss is more firm.

 _(You can touch too, y’know.)_ Dean takes one of Castiel’s hands and brings it up to rest against his neck. _(Just mirror what I do, okay?)_

Castiel hums against his lips. When Dean leans his head one way, he moves the other way. When Dean leans back for a quick breath, Castiel does too before he pulls him back in. Dean’s mouth opens against his and he feels a tongue dart wetly over his bottom lip. When he tries to copy the movement, Dean surprises him with the slick slide of their tongues together.

He’s even more shocked by the bright bolt of _heat_ that streaks through his chest and curls hot and pulsing low in his gut. The startled groan that sounds between them might have come from him, but it might have come from Dean. He can’t tell. Dean has one hand fisted in Castiel’s hair at the back of his neck – there’s a twinge of pain when the blue fingers slide up - and the other is fitted just below his side-fan, thumb brushing the trail of scales that spread to his cheek bone. He tilts Castiel’s head back more and sucks at his tongue. The moan that echoes across the white-squares this time is definitely his own.

Dean finally draws away with one last lingering press of lips. Castiel is finding it hard to breathe. His skin feels hot all the way down to his scales and he thinks Dean might actually be able to hear his heartbeat for how hard it is pounding. The shower-rain is cold now where it touches him. It feels like the boiling red water of the volcanic vent is roiling in his gut and his fingers keep flexing where they’ve found themselves – one on Dean’s left shoulder and the other cupping the back of his head.

“Shit, look at you…” Dean mumbles and he leans in again. It’s just a fleeting touch, a hard press of lips, before he’s pulling Castiel’s hands away. He turns awkwardly. _(If we keep this up, we’ll never get out of here. I’m going to shower really quick and then we’ll clean you up before going to meet with Sam and Jess, okay?)_

Castiel can only nod his head in agreement. There’s a haze settled thick over his brain and it takes a gentle push at his shoulder to make him sit back under the shower-rain.

 _(Nice to know I can kiss you stupid, Cas. Try to have some semblance of a thought process going by the time I’m done.)_ Dean slips around the corner and out of sight before he’s even really standing. _(And no peeking!)_

Castiel doesn’t know what he’s not supposed to peek at. But he closes his eyes and tilts his face into the spray. His lips still tingle and they feel swollen when he runs first his fingers and then his tongue over them. He can still taste something he can’t even find words to explain. The only thing he can think of that comes close is _‘Dean’_.

It takes several long minutes for his heart to calm and the heat under his skin to fade. It itches as it goes and Castiel shifts uncomfortably. His fingers can’t seem to hold still, constantly brushing back and forth over his scales and mapping his pattern without actually needing to see it. The kin-connection between him and Dean is quiet – the kind of silence when Dean is hiding his thoughts.

Castiel doesn’t question it, because he’s doing the same.

It’s another few minutes before he remembers that he wants to clean his scales. He doesn’t have coarse sand to scrub into them with clumps of sea-sponge. But he could try the soap that Dean is using.

Castiel uncurls and drags himself to the corner of the alcove. He pulls himself around it and pushes the hanging sheet out of the way. _(Dean, may I use the soap to cl –)_

The very-small-towel is heavy with water and it actually knocks Castiel back when it hits him in the face. Dean has surprisingly good accuracy for throwing it not only with his injured arm but also while attempting to cover himself. He wasn’t nearly quick enough to cover himself before Castiel saw the swell of his erection or the way his hand had been moving over it.

“Jesus CHRIST, Cas! I said _no peeking!_ ”  

 

  


 

 

 


	14. A Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel’s shoulder twitches in a shrug. He’s used to being close to his nest-siblings. When they were children they used to sleep curled together and he often shared his sleep-shelf with Balthazar when either of them had bad dreams or simply needed the comfort of their sibling next to them. But Castiel has never really felt the need to constantly touch or wrap himself around someone like he does with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you. 
> 
> Don’t forget to check out the OotD tumblr pages: [FanArt](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdfanart), [Fanfiception](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdfanfic) (Fanfic for a fanfic, seriously.), [Information](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdinfo), and [Extras](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/ootdextras) (my extra drabbles). And come meet the [Finfamily](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/finfamily)! (The findom becomes fin-kin!)
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: majichan, cas-please, violent-lineart, trickspeightjr, mad-as-a-timelord, alphamishka1508, shaishart, thoughts-of-midnight-insomnia.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel hugs the fold of his tail tightly to his chest. It does nothing to quell the heat thrumming low in his belly. It floods his veins and makes the shower-rain feel like the cold waters of the deep where it falls over his head and skin. He stares hard at the white-squares on the wall and desperately tries to focus his mind on anything and everything that isn’t Dean.

On anything and everything that isn’t Dean and a never ending spread of skin flushed pink from the hot water. Or the way his teeth had pressed into his bottom lip. He tries his hardest to not think about the slide of Dean’s fingers over – Castiel shakes his head violently and pressed his face into his scales. The few seconds he had seen play over the back of his eyelids and he muffles a whimper against his tail at the blooming burn seeping under his scales.

Castiel shakes his head again and looks up at the white-squares again. He picks out a droplet of water and traces its path with his eyes. He’s aware that the tingle dancing over his skin and the twisting pull in his gut is arousal. And he knows, in theory,  how to deal with it. But he’s never had to do it before. The urges of his body were never a problem from him while growing up – much to the annoyance of his nest-brothers.

Balthazar used to complain, on a near hourly basis, about how the females would follow him around and purposefully act seductive just to cause a reaction so they could see his arousal. Lucifer told them it was because the females were keeping track of which males would make good mates. Gabriel told them it was because the females were perverts and had nothing better to do.

It always causes a shudder to shake down his spine whenever Castiel thinks about the time he was ambushed by a group of females. They had poked and prodded and asked him why they hadn’t seen him with an erection yet. He didn’t have an answer for them then.

He does now.

His memories of the colony and the old embarrassment help ease the disquiet singing through his body. Now he knows that he didn’t have any reactions to the females and their budding breasts or fluttering fans not because there was something wrong with him, but because they just weren’t interesting to him.

The females were convinced that, despite being a good warrior, Castiel would make a terrible mate. Most of the colony had been so sure that there was something wrong with him because he had never been seeing showing any kind of arousal. Some had thought that he was simply shy. But no one thought that he would ever father a nest. It wasn’t something that had bothered him too much. It was just a worry in the back of his mind that would make itself known every once in a while. But Castiel had always been fine with just being a soldier, with devoting his time to keeping the colony safe.

He wonders if he would have ever experienced arousal outside of sleep if he had turned his attention to any of the colony’s males. He knows that he’s had dreams – though he can’t remember them clearly – where he would wake with a fading ache in his belly and the scent of his release in the water.

The rustle of one of the hanging sheet makes Castiel flinch. His back is to the entrance of his alcove and he had closed the sheet to block the opening. He’d retreated here after Dean had shouted at him for peeking. Castiel hopes Dean isn’t too mad at him. It’s not like he had told him _what_ he wasn’t allowed to peek at.

He glances over his shoulder at his untouched sheet. If he angles his side-fans right, he can hear the slap of Dean’s bare feet on the white-squares and the muffled noise of his clothing. Castiel doesn’t dare check on what Dean is doing. It’s likely that Dean is getting dressed now, which means that he’ll be naked for a few moments and Castiel doesn’t want him to yell again if he catches him looking again.

Castiel’s fingers play with an adipose fin, rolling and folding it nervously while he waits. The kin-connection still bridges his mind with Dean’s, but it is quiet. He wants to stretch through and touch the edges of Dean’s thoughts, but he’s worried that Dean will shut him out completely if he does. He hadn’t meant to see Dean pleasuring himself and he thinks being tormented by the image is punishment enough.

The gentle touch to the wall surrounding his mind startles him and Castiel’s fans flare briefly. He drops enough of the walls for Dean to feel some of his emotions – his wary anxiety, his regret and his apologies. Dean’s thoughts drift over his own. It’s a cautious touch edged with concern, but there is no anger.

_(You okay, Cas?)_

Castiel nods and then realizes that Dean can’t see the movement. He sends a pulse of affirmation through the connection and watches Dean’s shadow darken the sheet.

_(Sorry for hitting you in the face with the cloth, it was a knee-jerk reaction. It didn’t hurt you or anything, did it?)_

He snorts and his adipose fans ripple. _(Of course not. I’m… sorry, too. Are you… are you angry with me?)_

Dean’s soft laugh can be heard on the other side of the sheet. _(Nah, I’m not angry. Embarrassed coz’ you caught me jerkin’ off… But not angry. It was pretty damn stupid of me to do that with you right here and all, but it was kinda a pressing issue and I wanted a hot shower instead of a cold one, y’know?)_

There’s a brief moment before Dean laughs again. _(Sorry, you probably actually don’t know about that. Cold showers help, um, they help – they make it – it kills erections. Anyway, are you – Is it okay if I move this curtain? You’re not – um – are you?)_ A kind of anticipation that Castiel doesn’t recognize flickers along the edges of the kin-connection.

_(I’m not doing anything.)_

The hanging sheet is pulled aside and Dean is already kneeling on a folded towel. The lights are brighter with the alcove open to the rest of the room and Castiel squints against them. He isn’t sure if he should be horrified or pleased that Dean isn’t fully dressed. There’s an odd mixture of both twisting in his stomach. Dean is only wearing the shorts that go under his pants and the blue-sleeve. There are still bruises and faint lines from Pamela speckling his chest and Castiel quickly looks away from them at the first sharp tug of jealousy in his chest.

Dean sticks his hand under the shower-rain and pulls it back immediately. He curses and mumbles something about the cold before reaching up to the metal knobs on the wall and twisting them until the water flow stops. Castiel flicks his fans to shake the water off and Dean jerks away. He glares and Castiel pushes a silent apology through the kin-connection.

 _(You still want to wash your scales?)_ Dean reaches around the wall between Castiel’s alcove and the one Dean had been using. He sits back with one of the bottles and another few damp very-small-towels that he called ‘cloths’.

Castiel nods and slowly unfolds. He lets his tail drop enough to  check to ensure he hasn’t started to slip from his sheath. Dean responds to the flash of relief with his own curiosity. Castiel pushes it away as he uncurls and slides around until he’s half-facing Dean, his back to one of the walls. He holds his hand out for the bottle and a cloth. Dean gives him one and squeezes a jelly onto it from the bottle. It’s more watery than the toothpaste was.

Dean passes images through the kin-connection as he puts the jelly onto the other cloth. Castiel mimics the memories, rubbing the cloth together until the jelly becomes bubbles. He turns it upside down and presses the foam against his scales. He rubs the soap over his lap. His face adipose fins ripple when he passes over the head of his sheath and his back fans flare slightly, hitting the wall. Dean looks up, curiosity flickering along his thoughts again while he rubs the other cloth together to make the foam.

He takes several slow, deep breaths to calm the tingling itch crawling over his nerves. Castiel makes a note to avoid touching anywhere near his sheath while there is still arousal pulsing dully in the pit of his stomach. He tries not to make it obvious when he quickly moves to cleaning the scales closer to his hips and fins. It’s not that he would mind having an erection at the moment. But judging from how Dean reacted to Castiel seeing him like that, he doesn’t think Dean would respond favourably to him being similarly aroused in front of him.

His conclusion is extrapolated from this and all the previous times when Dean has changed his clothes outside of small-sea and requested that Castiel turn his back.

The touch of the cloth in Dean’s hand startles him and Castiel makes a soft noise of surprise before twitching his tail away. One of Dean’s eyebrows rises up his forehead and he sits back on his heels, confusion colouring his thoughts. _(Something wrong, Cas?)_

Castiel had thought that Dean was preparing the other cloth for him to use when his current one was no longer foamy. He draws his tail closer, folding it again until the bubbles start to slide toward the crease of his belly.  Both of Dean’s eyebrows are raised now and Castiel adverts his eyes, dutifully continuing to scrub at his scales.

_(Is this because I jerked off right after we kissed? Coz’ I just gotta say that I haven’t gotten any alone time since that night with Pam and that was like, four days ago or something. And if you had seen how you looked after we kissed – Actually, here.)_

An image of Castiel rises with his words. His eyes are hooded and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted. They look swollen and spit-slick and Castiel automatically licks his lips, remembering how they had tingled afterward. In Dean’s image, his hair is starting to curl as it dries on his forehead and his side-fans are narrowed and flattened in a clear sign of submission.

Castiel hides behind the walls of his mind and imagines Dean looking the same as he did. He doesn’t think of the Dean from the poison-dream. He thinks of the Dean kneeling next to him, eyebrows still raised and watching him expectantly. Almost immediately heat starts throbbing under his skin, spreading quick and vicious under his scales and it makes his fins ripple wildly.

Dean glances down at the flutter of his adipose fins before Castiel flattens them with his hands. He bows his head and when he’s sure they won’t move, he returns to cleaning his scales. At Dean’s prodding confusion and the first misty swirls of paranoia, he relents.

 _(It’s not because of what you did, Dean. I understand that you were aroused and you had the opportunity to deal with it so you did. It’s a normal thing to do for a healthy male.)_ He curls his tail up in front of his chest and folds the end over his shoulder so he can rub the soap into the underside. _(I pulled away because I haven’t been assisted with maintaining my scales since I was a child. It’s usually an activity one accomplishes alone.)_

_(Well, okay. When do you usually not do it alone?)_

Castiel shrugs and uncurls slowly as he works the cloth closer to the end of his tail. He can feel the blush creeping up along his gills. _(One would have to be very close to someone to allow them to assist in cleaning their scales.)_

 _(How close?)_ Dean takes the cloth Castiel is using and gives him the other one.

He can sense Dean’s amusement when he notices the flush starting to colour Castiel’s cheeks. Ignoring it, he doesn’t look up and works the foaming soap back up along the front of his tail. He still has to clean the scales he’s sitting on, and his side-fans. But he’s not going to be able to clean his back-fans properly. There’s no sand to bury his fans in and it would be rude of him to ask Dean to do it.

Dean repeats his question.

 _(If you were my sibling and I was either too sick or too injured to maintain my scales on my own, then I would allow you to help me. Otherwise, the only other person that should assist is –)_ Castiel glances up at him briefly before quickly looking back down at where his hands are working the cloth back up into his lap. _(- a bond-mate.)_

Dean’s surprise isn’t nearly as bright as Castiel thought it would be. _(Oh. Yeah, that – uh – that makes sense. I can understand why you wouldn’t want me helping then. Sorry.)_

_(There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t know.)_

_(Is there anything I_ can _help with?)_

Castiel starts to work the remnants of the soap over one of his side-fans. He flexes the spines of his back-fans and the folded webbing rustles slightly. He’s loath to leave any of his fans unclean, but he’s hesitant to ask for Dean’s help right after telling him about the significance such an action holds.

Dean’s eyes slip to his shoulder and his eyebrow twitches up again. _(How are you gonna clean those?)_

Castiel shrugs and switches to the other side-fan. He curls his tail under him, the scales slip-sliding over the white-squares on the floor. He folds it under him and lifts up so he can reach the scales he was sitting on.

_(So you’re not cleaning them?)_

_(I’d like to, but I can’t properly reach them.)_

_(How do you do it at home?)_

Castiel responds with the memory of wriggling his back into the sand and shuffling the spines of his fans until his webbing has been scrubbed clean. Amusement flares through the kin-connection and Dean rolls his lips between his teeth, a smile pulling at the corners.

_(You… roll in the sand?)_

_(I don’t_ roll _.)_

He narrows his eyes at the snort that escapes Dean. The snort becomes a chuckle when Castiel twists to start cleaning the swell of his tail below the small of his back. He flares his fans and frowns at Dean.

_(What’s so funny?)_

_(It... Dude, it looks like you’re cleaning your ass.)_

_(I don’t know what that is.)_

More laughter starts to bubble up behind Dean’s smile. He explains about humans and the various words for their backsides. His amusement flickers with discomfort when he has to explain their purpose. He stumbles over describing how the muscles play together to keep humans upright and that their words often refer to what he calls the ‘anus’. He shifts uncomfortably when Castiel asks him to explain what that is used for.

He eventually explains but pointedly looks away when Castiel stretches out his front to display the swell of his sheath and the slit at the head of it. He doesn’t really understand what Dean finds embarrassing or uncomfortable about their bodies.

Dean puts more soap-jelly on the other cloth and gestures for Castiel to turn around. _(Enough talk about how we poop. Lemme soap up your fans and then you can rinse off while I get dressed. We can go back up to the room, maybe get something to eat, and if you’re not tired or anything we can show you the alphabet and how to read.)_

Castiel hesitates before shifting to present Dean with his back. _(I would like that. Thank you. Could I swim for a bit? While you eat.)_ He doesn’t particularly want to go back into the small-sea, especially after finally having a taste of the open ocean again. But there’s unrest sitting in his bones. He needs to move and twist and roll through the waves. Small-sea is the closest he can get to it right now.

He hums as Dean works the soap into the webbing and along the fans. Castiel spreads them wide so he can clean them entirely. He hunches his shoulders and curves his back when Dean drags the cloth over his spine while moving from one fan to the other. It’s a coarse touch that feels oddly pleasing and his reaction to it doesn’t go unnoticed. A curious interest skims along the edges of Dean’s mind and when he’s done with Castiel’s other fan, he presses the cloth to the back of base of his neck and slowly drags it down.

There’s just enough pressure and the cloth is just the right amount of roughness that it feels nearly exquisite.  Castiel’s eyes slip closed and he hums, pushing back into the touch as Dean repeats the process. A purr starts to rumble in his chest. Dean varies where he presses, down one side of his spine and back up on the other, closer to his fans, or even on the other side. When Castiel flattens the spines, Dean rubs the rough cloth over his shoulders a few times before trailing it down one arm.

Castiel has to turn for Dean to be able to properly clean his whole arm without him having to reach behind him. His arousal is still simmering in his gut, but it doesn’t itch under his skin like it did before. There’s an entirely different warmth spreading warm and comforting through his chest, vibrating in tune with his purr.

He can practically feel the heat of Dean’s skin when he leans closer, his breath ghosting over Castiel’s shoulder. _(I kinda wanna kiss you right now.)_

Castiel doesn’t open his eyes. He turns his head towards Dean and brushes his agreement and his permission through the kin-connection. The cloth smoothes back up his arm and along his collarbone. It moves up his neck, skirting the edges of his gills until it’s dropped entirely so Dean can cup the side of his face, his thumb tracing over the scales on his cheekbone again.

The kiss is soft and slow. It’s different from the first, and different from the second. It’s not a simple press of lips. There’s more movement, and the pressure keeps changing. It doesn’t last more than a few moments before Dean pulls away again. Satisfaction thrums brightly through their link and when Castiel opens his eyes, Dean is grinning widely at him.

_(How about you rinse off now?)_

Dean stands and turns the knobs until warm water sputters out of the wall-cylinder. He takes the cloths and the bottle of soap back to the low ledge where his clothes are spread out. Castiel lets the water wash away the foam. He twists to make sure it falls across his back and shoulders and he tries very hard not to watch Dean remove the blue-sleeve, or when he puts on his jeans and shirt and the crisscross patterned extra shirt over the rest.

_(Don’t let me leave without putting my shoes on again. It’s not really all that safe to walk around the boat without them on.)_

He comes back to the alcove and Castiel slides out from under the spray of the shower-rain at Dean’s request. He crouches next to him and checks his fans and scales. Castiel even rolls onto his front and stretches out his tail so Dean can look at the underside too.

 _(Looks like you got it all.)_ He turns off the water and Castiel looks up at him when indecision drags over Dean’s thoughts. _(Do you, I dunno, wanna shave now? It’s easier to do it here when we’ve got some sinks right over there. Lilith will be back tomorrow and as much as I really,_ really _, hate following her dumbass rules, she’ll be pissed if you’re scruffy when she comes back. If you want to go back and swim now, we can always do it tomorrow. It’s fine.)_

Castiel runs his fingers over his cheeks. His stubble is a few days old. With everything that has happened and his worrying for Dean, he hadn’t really noticed it. Now that his attention has been drawn to it, the pull of the hair at his fingers is bothersome.

_(Can we do it now?)_

_(Sure, it’ll only take a few minutes.)_ He crouches again and Castiel puts his arms around his shoulders. Dean wraps his arms around his waist and lifts, staggering slightly when he stands. Castiel curls his tail around his waist and is very careful about keeping it up and out of the way of Dean’s legs as he turns and carries him to the ledge beneath the mirrors.

The position is reminiscent of yesterday and Castiel dips his head to press a quick kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth before he’s placed on the ledge. A spiral of nervousness twists at the base of his throat. He hadn’t asked Dean if he could kiss him and he’s not entirely sure if he needs permission before every time or not. His tail drops from around Dean’s waist and it hangs over the edge of the shelf. He twitches the end in circles over the white-squares.

Dean’s huff of laughter isn’t missed when he goes to get his brown pouch from the pile of his previous clothes on the low-ledge. _(I told you, Cas. You can kiss me whenever you feel like it. If it’s not a good time for it, I’ll let you know.)_

 _(Are there any stipulations to this trial period that I should know about?)_ Castiel examines the hollowed out basin next to him.

It is white, smooth, and cool to the touch. There is another drain at the bottom of it and there are metal knobs along the edge at the back of it, directly below the mirror. One of the knobs is long and thin and it arches out over the basin. Experimentally, Castiel turns one of the short, round knobs. Water starts to pour from the end of the long-thin-knob.

 _(No, there aren’t really any rules for this. Just kiss me when you want to. If you’re not sure if it’s an appropriate time, you can always ask me first.)_ Dean returns and he picks up a flat disk from behind the long-thin-knob. The disk is attached to it by a small chain. Dean covers the drain with the disk and the water starts to fill the basin.

 _(Okay. I thought we shouldn’t block the drain?)_ Castiel watches the water pool in the bottom of the basin a little ways before Dean turns the knobs the other way and shuts it off.

 _(It’s okay to do it for a sink, as long as you don’t let it overflow. That’s what the plug is for, so we can do this and use it to wash stuff.)_ Dean shrugs and pulls a razor and the cylinder of foam from the brown pouch.

Castiel tilts his head accordingly when Dean starts putting the foam on his face. He leaves some on Castiel’s nose again and laughs when he goes cross-eyed to look at it. Castiel likes that Dean is laughing. He thinks it’s both odd and intriguing that he can find such amusement despite their situation with the boat and Lilith. He continuously finds himself forgetting about the constant desire for his freedom and the ocean when he’s with Dean.

Dean doesn’t clean the foam from his nose before he starts to scrape the foam and the hair away with the razor. He pauses often to swish it through the water at the bottom of the basin. Castiel closes his eyes and the purr starts again while Dean’s gentle fingers on his jaw tilt and turn his face as needed. He folds his tail around one of Dean’s legs, wrapping it until his end-fans cover his feet.

_(Are all merma – fin-kin, sorry – are they all touchy-feely or is it just you?)_

Castiel’s shoulder twitches in a shrug. He’s used to being close to his nest-siblings. When they were children they used to sleep curled together and he often shared his sleep-shelf with Balthazar when either of them had bad dreams or simply needed the comfort of their sibling next to them. But Castiel has never really felt the need to constantly touch or wrap himself around someone like he does with Dean.

He tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling while Dean works the razor under his jaw and over the stubble on his throat. He thinks a part of the reason why he likes touching Dean so much is the heat of his body. Dean is so warm compared to how cool Castiel's skin and scales usually are. It’s nice, and addicting. And he likes the way Dean smells. He feels calmer, more safe, when Dean holds him and in this strange world of the humans, Dean is one of the few comforts he’s found.

A towel gets pressed into his hands and Castiel looks down suddenly. He hadn’t noticed when Dean finished.

 _(Wipe up with that. I’m going to give myself a quick once over too.)_ He steps to the side so he’s in front of the mirror. He sprays foam into his hands again and gestures down at the ledge. _(And use those too.)_

Castiel rubs the towel over his cheeks and looks down. A toothbrush and toothpaste are lined up next to him. He frowns at them and irritation flickers over his thoughts while he brushes his teeth and Dean shaves. He leans over to spit into the sink when he’s done and Dean removes the plug by pulling the chain. Castiel watches as he brushes his teeth too and turns the water back on to rinse the sink out. Every time he catches Castiel looking, Dean’s eyebrows waggle and he grins around his toothbrush.

He waits on the ledge while Dean cleans up and folds his things into a bundle before handing it to him. Castiel doesn’t ask with his words for another kiss. He sends the desire across the kin-connection. It’s another slow one, the pressure keeps alternating between soft and hard. Castiel slides closer to the edge of the shelf, the bundle of clothes resting precariously on his lap.

He tentatively traces Dean’s lips with the tip of his tongue, mimicking how Dean did it earlier. Anxiety flares brightly and forms a tight knot in his chest when Dean stills. He starts to pull away, confused and worried that he did something wrong. There’s a soft puff of air against his lips, and it’s the only precursor he gets before Dean leans forward, pulling Castiel back to him with a hand at the back of his head.

The twinge of pain when Dean’s fingers press at the base of his skull goes unnoticed. Dean tastes like the toothpaste, but Castiel can still pick out the flavour that he’s labeled as being specific to Dean alone. He chases the taste into Dean’s mouth and a small moan works its way from his throat at the first suck.

Castiel loses himself to the slide of soft tongues and the clean scent that surrounds Dean. He twists his fingers into the back of Dean’s shirt and presses closer. The bundle of clothes is caught between them, a hard point digging into his stomach. Dean’s teeth tug at his bottom lip slightly when he pulls away and Castiel’s tail tightens where it’s curled around his waist.

 _(As much as I would love to kiss you stupid again, Sam and Jess are waiting and who knows how long those guards’ll wait before they break down the door.)_ Dean licks his lips and his smile is soft. _(We can do this more later, okay?)_

 _(Will you show me how to make these?)_ He presses at a spot on Dean’s clavicle where he knows one of Pamela’s marks are.

Dean has to pull the collar of his shirt down to see what Castiel is referring to. One of his eyebrows rises again and the kin-connection vibrates with amusement and curls of anticipation. _(You want to give me a hickey, Cas?)_

_(Yes.)_

_(And where would you want to put one?)_ Dean lifts his head and tilts his head back, baring his throat.

The action makes Castiel’s mouth go dry. His fingers shake slightly as he slides them over Dean’s neck and jaw.  His claws drag lightly over the skin and he feels Dean’s shudder and the way the front of his throat moves when he swallows. Castiel settles two fingers against the rapid pulse rushing under his skin on the left side of his throat.

Dean covers Castiel’s hand with his own, keeping it pressed to his skin and leans forward until their noses are almost touching. There’s heat behind his eyes and Castiel’s next breath catches in his throat. _(You want to put a mark on me here?)_

Castiel swallows thickly and nods slowly. He’s having trouble focusing on anything beyond Dean’s green eyes and the freckles across his nose and cheeks. He can’t even begin to try cataloguing every curl of arousal, or desire, or whatever it is that feels like it’s burning through the kin-connection and melting away everything bad he doesn’t want to think about.

 _(You wanna put a mark right here, where everyone can see? Show them, show_ Pam _, that you’re the one I’m kissing now?)_

Yes. Yes, he wants that. He wants to put his mark on Dean so no one else will touch him. Castiel’s chest feels both too tight and too loose and it’s hard to breathe. He keeps trying to suck in a breath but it’s never enough and his fins are rustling wildly against the ledge. Dean’s other hand drifts over Castiel’s gills until his fingers find the same spot where his pulse is thudding heavily in his throat.

 _(Do you want me to give you one too?)_ He dips his head out of sight and Castiel stifles a gasp when Dean’s tongue laves over the spot where his fingers had been. _(You want me to mark you too? Show Lilith you’re more mine than you’ll ever be hers?)_

Castiel shoves at Dean, pushing him away. He nearly falls from the ledge when he doubles over and hugs his belly. It’s Dean’s hands on his shoulders that keep him from tumbling to the floor. Everything Dean was feeding into the kin-connection evaporates and leaves nothing but a bright, trembling apologetic concern.

_(Cas, you okay?)_

He shakes his head and draws his tail up, folding it against his chest. It’s hard to breathe and his body feels hot, too hot. He can feel the burn spreading low and curling under his scales. The muscles of his sheath are tightening and he needs it to stop. He can’t do this now and not in front of Dean.

 _(Did I… was that too much?)_ Dean’s anxiety skates over his own, pulsing hard and worried through their link. _(I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean – I got caught up in teasing – I don’t mean that I was teasing and it won’t happen – but I – is it because I brought up Lilith? Or coz’ I said you were ‘mine’? I don’t wanna own you or anything – not like Lilith – I was just trying to be sexy. I’m sorry, please don’t freak out on me.)_

Castiel shakes his head again and manages one deep breath. It’s followed by another, and another. He focuses on the in and out of air through his lungs and uses that to calm the pounding of his heart. Even though his own thoughts tremble with his own worry, he tries to soothe that waves rolling from Dean’s mind.

 _(I’m not ‘freaking out’. I’m just – You are very good at being seductive.)_ Castiel can feel the blush staining his cheeks and all of Dean’s emotions give way to surprise.

_(Oh. Are you…?)_

_(Yes. Just… please give me moment.)_

_(Do you want me to step outside? I can give you a moment if you need one. If you’ve been at the tipping point since earlier, you can’t be very comfortable.)_

_(No. I don’t want to. Please, just… just one moment.)_ Castiel keeps breathing, in and out, in and out. In through his mouth, out through his nose. It takes several minutes before he thinks he’s calm enough. The muscles of his sheath aren’t twitching and tightening anymore, but there’s still a need pulsing under his skin and it itches.

He uncurls enough to check that he’s not unsheathed before sitting back fully. Dean is watching him closely and Castiel knows, just by the way he’s pointedly not looking lower than his chin, that Dean wants to look down at his lap. There’s curiosity snaking along the edges of Dean’s mind. He has questions but he’s not asking and Castiel doesn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him.

_(Are you okay now? You ready to head back upstairs?)_

_(Yes, please. Swimming will help take my mind off of –)_ He gestures down at his lap and the bundle of clothes.

Dean glances down briefly and Castiel thinks he might sense a curl of disappointment before Dean purges his current emotions from the kin-connection and forces a smile. _(Alright. Let’s get moving.)_

x

Castiel circles the small-sea in lazy loops. He’s long since finished the fish and given the bones over to Sam. Dean is eating two pieces of bread with several slices of meat and squares of yellow between them. He called it a ‘sandwich’ and the yellow squares are ‘cheese’. He’s sitting on his bed and flipping through a thin book covered in lots of pictures. The pages are glossy. He said it’s called a ‘magazine’. Jess is dozing, stretched out on top of the covers on the bed. Sam is at one of the computers. Dean said that Sam is writing about the information that he’s learned from Castiel.

For a while, after eating and while Jess and Bobby were getting the food and Sam and Dean were talking, Castiel had swam with his eyes closed and used his echolocation to guide him from the walls. The water is stagnant again and needs to be changed, so the illusion of the sea was incomplete. But it was enough to clear his head to think.

He thought about the trial period with Dean. He thought about tomorrow and Lilith’s return and her promise that Alistair would get to do what he wanted to Castiel. He thought about his home and his family and the poison-dream. He thought about the alphabet that Dean had shared with him during their return to the room.

He thought until his head and his heart hurt.

 _(Hey, Cas, what’s this?)_ Dean calls up the image of two parallel lines joined by a single line at their centers.

_(That is an ‘H’.)_

Dean smiles around his next bite from his sandwich and calls up an image of a circle and Castiel names it as an ‘O’. The human’s alphabet was easy to memorize and Dean has been quizzing him on it since he sat down to eat. He shares a half circle and Castiel recognizes it as a ‘C’.

_(If you were out of the water, we could test you on the sounds too. If you know the sounds that letters make, it’ll be easier to recognize words when you read them because then you can just sound them out.)_

Castiel flares his adipose fins and paddles to a stop. He twists his tail under him and settles to the floor. _(Could we change small-sea’s water while we do that?)_

Dean sits up straighter and puts the magazine aside. He finishes his sandwich in two big bites and stands. _(Yeah, sure. Stale water is uncomfortable to breathe, huh? I’ll get the mobile tank so you can at least stay in the water.)_

_(I’m okay with sitting on your bed.)_

_(Yeah, I know.)_ Dean rubs his hand through his hair and looks away. A curl of embarrassment rises with his thoughts and shrugs. _(I just feel bad that you live underwater but you’re spending so much time outta it because of me. It’s not – I dunno – it’s not_ right _. You should get to stay in your natural element.)_

Castiel looks down at his lap and traces the blue dots of his glow pattern where they loop alongside and under his sheath. _(I do miss the water when I’m not in it. But I’d prefer being out there with you than alone inside this cage.)_

A mix of emotions wash through the kin-connection. All Castiel can pick out is a bright anger toward Lilith. _(Is the mobile tank okay?)_

 _(Yes. It doesn’t have bars.)_ Castiel pushes off the floor to circle up to the top of small-sea. He rolls forward and slaps the bars with his tail before righting himself. _(And it willl be much easier to kiss you.)_

Dean’s short laugh startles Jess awake and Sam turns to glare at him. Dean shrugs an apology and winks at Castiel before leaving. He returns several minutes later with Bobby. Sam gets up to help Dean maneuver the very-small-sea into the room. They push it up against the front glass-wall. Bobby comes in behind Dean, pulling the pump.

Castiel pulls himself up on the left glass-wall. He crosses his arms over the edge and seals his gills. It’s a few moments of uncomfortable coughing and spitting out the water in his lungs before he can breathe properly. Jess groans when she sees the pump and rolls over, pulling the pillow over her head.

“Really guys? Right now?”

Dean  puts the hose in the very-small-sea while Bobby hooks it up to the hidden hole in the wall. “Sorry, Jess. The water needs to be changed and we might as well do it now.”

Jess makes a disgruntled noise and sits up. “I’m going to go back to our room then.”

Sam looks up sharply. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Pam is alone.”

“She’s the ship’s doctor, they’re not going to do anything to her.”

“Then I’ll go sleep in her room.” Jess stretches and her shirt lifts to bare her belly.

Castiel tilts his head. _(Dean. How come you and Jess have different stomachs?)_

_(Because we’re different people? And I’m a guy. She’s a girl. What do you even mean?)_

He pushes an image of the dips the humans have in their stomachs through the kin-connection. Dean’s is a little pit while Jess’s looks like a little nub. Dean laughs again and starts to explain belly buttons and umbilical cords. Castiel’s nose crinkles in disgust. It’s almost as bad as when Jess told him about how humans change their faces and their bodies.

Sam leaves with Jess to escort her to Pamela’s room while the very-small-sea starts to get filled. He's back only a few minutes later. Castiel watches quietly, as Dean, Sam and Bobby talk about their chances of stealing something they call a lifeboat. Dean translates it as a boat that, in the case of emergency, can be used by crew to escape the bigger boat.

Because of Dean’s cast, it’s Sam who helps Castiel out of the tank. It takes much kicking and pulling, and the glass digs into his stomach and scrapes over his scales before Castiel is over the wall and dripping against Sam’s chest. Dean helps him down from the platform and stands to the side as Sam lowers Castiel into the small-sea.

He crosses his arms over one of the short ends of the very-small-sea and  enjoys the feel of the water rushing from the hose over his scales. It feels like a current pushing over his scales and Castiel briefly misses the open sea and the currents that flowed around the trench before he smothers those thoughts.

_(Dean. Can we kiss now?)_

Dean looks up from checking the pump. _(Wait til Bobby is gone.)_

_(Does Bobby not approve?)_

_(He doesn’t care about that, but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. It’s like kissing in front of my dad and it’s kinda an awkward thing to do.)_ Dean shrugs and looks between the pump and the water in the very-small-sea.

Castiel rests his chin on his forearms. _(I’m not sure I understand.)_

_(Well, would you want to make out in front of your family?)_

_(I wouldn’t mind it.)_

Dean turns off the pump and Bobby lifts the hose out. Together they lift it over the glass-wall of small-sea. His surprise is mixed with skepticism. _(You’d be okay sucking face with Balthazar or… um… Gabriel? You’d be okay doing that with them right next to you?)_

_(I’ve been present when they’ve kissed females. It’s only the actual act of sex that we do in private. Kissing is nothing to be embarrassed of and I would be very proud to kiss you in front of my siblings. If you were a fin-kin, I think you would be a very desirable mate and anyone would be very jealous if I were to kiss you in front of them.)_

Dean is pleased with Castiel’s compliment and his thoughts vibrate with a smug satisfaction. Those disappear almost immediately, surprise spreading bright and hard through the kin-connection. It’s so unexpected that it shocks Castiel and his fans flare.

_(Didn’t you say that yesterday. What’s that word mean?)_

Castiel’s stomach sinks and trepidation squeezes around his lungs. _(What word?)_

 _(‘Mate’. You said it yesterday with your goodbye. But right now we aren’t talking about stuff to do with goodbyes so what does it mean?)_ Dean leaves the hose and stands in front of Castiel. His shoulders are set in a stiff line and his thoughts are hard and sharp.

He knows Castiel lied to him about the goodbye.

That sinking feeling intensifies and Castiel’s throat feels tight. He doesn’t want to tell Dean about the poison-dream and he didn’t think Dean would recognize the word. He hadn’t even thought about using it. He thought that maybe Dean would have paid more attention to the image used to describe it rather than the word itself.

Bobby starts up the pump again to drain the water from the small-sea

_(Cas, did you lie to me?)_

He can’t lie to Dean right now without hiding behind walls and Dean will be able to feel it. It’s like when Dean found out the bonding song was a love song. If he looks away, Dean will know he was lying. If he withdraws in any way, he’ll know he was lying. The kin-connection is working against Castiel. He presses his lips together into a thin line and his eyes slip closed.

_(Yes.)_

_(Why?)_

_(I didn’t want to tell you what I said.)_

_(Why not?)_

Castiel looks away. It’s hard to swallow around the lump that’s lodged itself in his throat and his chest feels too tight. _(You wouldn’t like it.)_

_(Let me be the judge of that.)_

He shakes his head and presses his face into his arms. _(I don’t want to tell you. It will make you uncomfortable.)_ Anxiety thrums across his bones and his fins are rippling. _(Don’t ask again. Please, Dean. Don’t ask.)_

 _(I’m not going to forget this and let it go, Cas. I don’t like being lied to.)_ An eerie kind of calm settles over the kin-connection. It vibrates with a thin anger that unsettles Castiel and it’s getting hard to breathe again. _(You’ve got two choices right now. Tell me what you said or we can break this connection right now and I’ll go hang out with Pam and Jess until I’ve calmed down enough to come back.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he looks up quickly at the mention of Pamela. The last time Dean was angry and left, he went to her and came back bearing her marks. The last thing Castiel wants right now is for that to happen again. Dean knows that. He knows that Castiel hates the thought of anyone else touching him. And Dean is the one who named the feelings that had burned through the core of him as ‘jealousy’.

Dean knows this and he’s using it against Castiel and that makes him _mad_. Castiel snarls, baring his teeth and flaring his fans unhappily. He turns away and slips under the water, curling at the opposite end of the very-small-sea. The first rush of water over his gills is painful and he chokes slightly as it floods his lungs. Dean could easily walk around to stand over him on this side. He folds his tail to his chest and presses his face to his scales.

Exasperation filters hotly over the kin-connection and Castiel can feel when Dean starts to gather the link, preparing to sever it. Castiel pulls at the touch, tugging at Dean’s mind to stop him. He doesn’t want Dean to break the kin-connection and he especially doesn’t want Dean to go to Pamela. It’s with a heavy resignation that Castiel dregs up the memories of the dream and shoves them through their link.

He takes a slight satisfaction in knowing that he did it hard enough that Dean would have winced.

Castiel keeps himself separated from Dean’s thoughts. He doesn’t want to know what Dean thinks of the memories or how he feels about it. He hides behind the walls of his mind and waits. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, or what he’s even hoping for. Castiel doesn’t want Dean to be mad at him, and he doesn’t want Dean to leave.

But the thoughts that Castiel had – that he dreamed of Dean as his bond-mate – it could make Dean unhappy. He still doesn’t know how Dean feels, or how he thinks about him. Castiel knows that Dean is attracted to him physically. He knows that Dean likes him. But does he like him to the point of accepting him as a bond-mate?

It’s been eleven days since he met Dean.

It’s too soon.

Castiel shouldn’t be thinking of Dean like that, but he has. He does. He wants to put his mouth to Dean’s throat and place his mark on his skin. He wants to cover Dean in marks to show that Castiel was here. That Dean wanted him enough to let him do that.

Even after Castiel has gone home.

But those marks won’t stay. Castiel could leave more permanent ones with his teeth or his claws. He could, but he won’t. Not without Dean’s permission and never unless Dean wanted it too. If Dean wanted to mark him too, Castiel would allow it. He would welcome it. Castiel wants something to take home with him, something to remind him that he knew Dean and that he had wanted him.

His nose starts to tingle and he can feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

When he leaves, he wants to take something more than just memories. He doesn’t know what, but he wants to have something so he doesn’t forget Dean. Castiel never wants to forget him. Dean is the first to kiss him, the first to want him. The first, outside for his nest-siblings and his friends, to say he cares for Castiel.

He can feel Dean’s touch against the walls, pulling and pushing and trying to find a weak point. He can hear Dean saying his name in the kin-connection. Castiel is scared of what Dean will say about the poison-dream. He both does and does not want to hear what Dean thinks about it.

The pressure at the edge of his mind goes away. Dean’s presence is still there,  so the kin-connection hasn’t been broken. Castiel wants to check, to look up and see if Dean has left or what could be happening outside the very-small-sea. He doesn’t. He doesn’t move except to hug his tail tighter.

The water is vibrating with the sound of the pump.

Castiel isn’t expecting the eruption of movement in the water. He jerks out of his fold and his tail knocks Dean’s legs out from under him. He drops the walls and Dean’s surprise and his curses fill the kin-connection. Dean flounders in the water, getting his feet back on the floor before he pushes upright again. Castiel stares up at him from his corner, his back pressed into the junction of the walls.

Dean is wearing only his undershorts and he has the blue-sleeve on again. Castiel can’t see Bobby from where he’s lying at the bottom of the very-small-sea. The water is in level with Dean’s belly-button. It slows his movements as he takes a few steps forward, careful not to step on Castiel’s tail. He watches as Dean’s chest expands in a deep breath before he drops underwater.

_(What are you doing?)_

Dean doesn’t answer. He reaches down and pulls at Castiel’s arms, trying to drag him up. Castiel’s adipose fans ripple and he curves his tail to knock Dean’s legs away again. He’s still unhappy that Dean used his jealousy against him.

_(I can’t breathe down here, Cas. Come up here before I drown.)_

_(I don’t want to.)_

_(It’ll be really hard to kiss you if I’m drowning.)_

Castiel pauses in his attempts at making sure that Dean can’t stand and get the leverage he needs to pull him up. _(You… still want to?)_

Dean treads the water awkwardly to get his head above water and take a breath, Castiel’s wrist held loosely in his hand. _(Yes. I still want to. Right now, even. If you’d just come up here.)_

_(Why?)_

_(Why what?)_

_(Why do you want to kiss me?)_

_(Because you asked me to kiss you and Bobby is gone now.)_

Castiel frowns in confusion. _(But… the poison-dream…)_

Dean plants his feet on the floor again and Castiel doesn’t try to brush them out from underneath him with his tail again. He pulls and Castiel goes with it, letting Dean drag him up until he has to seal his gills and cough the water from his lungs.  Dean holds him up, one arm wrapped around his waist while his blue-sleeved hand rubs circles between his back-fans.

_(You good?)_

He coughs once more before leaning back to check Dean over. He doesn’t look angry, or uncomfortable and there’s no hint of either emotion in the kin-connection. There’s not really anything coming from Dean right now and Castiel brushes his touch against his mind to confirm that there are walls surrounding his thoughts.

_(Yes, I’m good. But, Dean… The –)_

_(It was a dream, Cas. I’m not going to get pissed at you for dreaming. That’s something you can’t control. And, yeah, I’m not really sure how I feel about you thinking of me as your bond-mate – but I looked fucking awesome as a fin-kin and you’re way too generous with your opinion of how desirable a mate I’d be.)_ A small, self-deprecating smile pulls up at the corners of Dean’s lips.

 _(I’m not going to say that I would drop my whole life and go home with you if that was possible. Because I really don’t know if I would, not yet. And I wouldn’t ask you to leave everything that you know to come live with me, though it would sure as hell be a lot easier to accommodate you into my life than me into yours. That’s not fair to you and I wouldn’t ever ask you to do it.)_ His hand slips up to the back of Castiel’s head and guides him forward until their foreheads touch. _(But when we get you back in the sea, when you get to go home, I’m going to miss you a helluva lot. If we can stay in contact, if there was any way for that to happen, I’d take it in a heartbeat. You gotta know that, okay?)_

The anxiety curled tight in Castiel’s chest releases and leaves behind it a hollow space. It feels light, like his head, and he doesn’t know what to think. There’s too much there for him to process right now, but he’s got the general idea.

Dean wants Castiel with him. Maybe it’s not in the same way that Castiel wants Dean with him at the colony. He won’t stop him from leaving, and he’ll fight to get Castiel his freedom.

But Dean doesn’t want Castiel to go.

Dean will _miss_ him.

When Dean kisses him this time, there’s an edge of desperation to it. Castiel can’t tell who it belongs to – him, or Dean. The water rises when Dean sinks to his knees and the glass-wall of the very-small sea presses into Castiel’s back. He wraps his tail tightly around Dean’s waist and he doesn’t let go.

Mother-sea help him, he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to.


	15. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gets to _mark_ him.
> 
> Dean will walk around in front of Pamela, Lilith, _everyone_ he knows bearing Castiel’s mark on his throat. On one of the most vulnerable places on his body. It makes a light, fluttery feeling fill his chest and swirl down into his stomach and back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.  
> There are a bunch of OotD related pages on my tumblr. You can find them in the left side bar.
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re interested, there’s an[OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com) now. There’s only a few items right now, but I’m looking into getting more.**
> 
>  
> 
> **And if you haven’t seen them yet, I’m now writing some OotD scenes from[Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, shaishart, alphamishka1508, artxisxinxmyxsoul, jamzartblog, mizbelle, luciffeels, uglybananas, hydraarill, hollyoakhill, luminateshit, and cass-booty
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

_(If you’re sleepy, you can go to sleep.)_

Castiel stifles another yawn and shakes his head. He tries to focus on the book propped open against Dean’s leg, but the small symbols keep blurring together. The letters Dean calls ‘lower case’ are harder to tell apart than the ‘upper case’ letters. And the sounds are all so foreign. Especially the sounds that go ‘th’. He doesn’t like those letters. His tongue doesn’t form around them right and it’s an endless source of delight for Dean.

_(Cas, seriously. Go to sleep.)_ Dean reaches down and pushes his fingers through Castiel’s hair. _(You only had a few hours sleep before I woke up, didn’t you? So you were awake basically the whole time I was out. You’ve gotta be super tired.)_

He shakes his head again, dislodging Dean’s hand. _(I don’t want to sleep.)_

_(Why not?)_

He rubs at his eyes and doesn’t answer.

Dean puts aside his own book and moves the one Castiel is trying to read. So far he’s been able to say the words, forming the sounds around them in his stilted pronunciation. Some of the words, once he’s pieced the syllables together, are recognizable. But he doesn’t know what anything he’s reading actually means.

Castiel reaches for the book, but Dean puts them both on top of the drawers next to him. He flicks the end of his tail over the pillow in annoyance and glares up at Dean.

_(I want to keep reading.)_

_(You stopped asking what the words mean over an hour ago. You’re not even really reading anymore. C’mon Cas, I’ll put you back in the tank and you can get some rest.)_ Dean stands and leans over to get his hands under Castiel’s chest.

He rolls away, pressing against the wall and curling his tail to push at Dean’s legs. _(I don’t want to.)_

_(You don’t want to sleep and you don’t want to go into the tank. Dude, you are_ cranky _when you’re tired.)_ Dean’s amusement washes over Castiel’s thoughts and he frowns at it. It’s annoying. The flare of his fans only makes Dean’s smile widen. _(C’mon. You haven’t even given me a good reason why you don’t want to sleep. Or go back in the tank.)_

Castiel shakes his head and tucks his arms under his chest so Dean can’t grab them and pull him toward the edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to go to sleep and lose time with Dean. Sleeping only makes time seem like it’s going by faster and Castiel wants time to go slower. He doesn’t want to sleep only to wake up just before Lilith comes back.

He would like to go back into the very-small-sea because he misses the water. But he wants Dean to get in with him. It’s not so lonely stuck between the glass-walls when Dean is there too. But the water is too deep for Dean to be able to relax. The water is above his head if he sits on the floor of the very-small-sea.

If Castiel has to sleep, he wants to sleep with Dean’s warmth pressed against him. The short stick on the clock is back on the single symbols and Dean said that it means that it’s very late. It’s been many hours since they kissed in the very-small-sea. Afterward, they had crossed their arms over the edges of the glass-walls, side-by-side, and simply talked.

Dean told him about his baby, providing several images of her shiny metals and extolling the wonders of the machinery under what he calls the ‘hood’. Castiel liked listening. Dean’s smile was fond, and wide, and he would gesture grandly while talking. Sometimes he slipped into talking with his throat voice and Castiel liked that too. His voice is rough and pleasant and when Castiel closes his eyes it vibrates over his skin and through his bones.

And when Dean was done, he asked about Castiel. He asked about his home, and his family, and what Castiel would do for fun. Castiel told him. He showed him memories of training, of playing with his brothers while he was growing up. He showed Dean memories of the trench and the songs his kin would sing.

They had stayed in the water until Sam came back with more food for Dean and a bucket with fish for Castiel. Sam hadn’t stayed long. He said that he and Bobby were trying to look into stealing one of the lifeboats. Castiel and Dean had both wanted to hear more about this plan, but Sam had warned that they were being watched much more closely than the others and the less they were involved, the better.

He hadn’t said why, but Castiel knows. Lilith is coming back in less than a day, and Alistair had made the promise that he’ll get to do what he wants. No one wants to take the risk that, under the prompting of pain, it’s very possible that Castiel could try to persuade them to stop by offering up information that Lilith would want to know about.

Castiel balks at the thought of ever turning on Sam or Dean. But he can’t guarantee that he won’t break. He may be an experienced warrior, but he hasn’t been trained to withstand any kind of _torture_.

It had put a damper on the evening and Castiel had only picked at his fish. Dean had eaten his whole supper and sorted through the few books that Sam had left for something with bigger symbols and less words. He’d used the books and sounds and words to distract Castiel from the thoughts of tomorrow.

_(Cas, c’mon. You’ve been outta the tank for hours now. You need to soak up again and you can do that in the tank, yeah?)_ Dean puts one knee on the bed and leans over to touch Castiel’s arm. _(If you want to sleep here, all you gotta do is ask, y’know?)_

_(I don’t want to sleep.)_ Castiel turns his face into the blankets and has to stifle another yawn. _(I want to stay awake with you.)_

A soft warmth creeps over Dean’s thoughts and he gently rubs Castiel’s arm. _(As sweet as that is, you’re just going to drop off at some point without realizing it and it might as well be in the water.)_

Castiel shakes his head again and feeds an image of being curled around Dean into the kin-connection. If Dean continues to insist that Castiel go to sleep, then it will have to be here. A soft chuckle tickles his side-fans and they twitch. He peeks up at the grin pulling at Dean’s lips.

_(Okay, okay. It means I’ll be sleeping in a damp bed again, but that’s fine. C’mon. Help me water your tail and then we can get comfortable.)_ Dean starts to wiggle a hand under Castiel’s side, the other fitting over his back.

He frowns as he pushes up to make it easier to drag him to the edge of the bed. Dean has made several sacrifices for Castiel’s comfort already and he keeps making more every time Castiel is selfish. Logic says that Castiel should sleep in the very-small-sea. It would be more comfortable for the both of them and Castiel wouldn’t be impeding anything Dean might want to do during the night. There is no tiredness in Dean’s mind and he’s only been awake half the day.

Castiel puts his arms around Dean’s shoulders as he picks him up. _(I’ll sleep in the very-small-sea.)_

Surprise flickers through the kin-connection and Dean blinks at him with his eyebrows raised. _(How come? I don’t mind you sleeping with me.)_

_(You shouldn’t have to sleep in a wet bed because of me.)_

_(If it bothered me, I’d say it. Seriously, Cas, it’s fine.)_

Castiel shakes his head and curls his tail around Dean’s waist. _(I understand. But you’re going to be up longer and I don’t want to be a hindrance to you. I’ll sleep there and you can move about doing whatever it is you want to do.)_

Dean turns and sits on the edge of the bed with Castiel settled in his lap. Castiel straightens and looks around in confusion before turning to Dean. He smothers a noise of surprise as he’s pulled forward into a kiss. His adipose fins rustle and his fans creaks when they flex. It’s just a soft, quick kiss that ends before Castiel can even properly respond.

_(Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. I appreciate it, but it’s not necessary, Cas.)_ Dean tilts his head to press another kiss to his lips. _(You’re the last person who should be trying to accommodate me. And you should know me well enough by now that if I really don’t like something, I’ll say it.)_

He hums in agreement and cups Dean’s face, holding him in place so he stops pulling away after every kiss. Castiel licks at Dean’s lips, tasting the salt of the very-small-sea still on his skin. He purrs when Dean opens under the touch and gently sucks at Castiel’s tongue before pushing his way into Castiel’s mouth. Dean seems to have a fascination with tracing his teeth, curling over the points before tasting deeper.

_(You too sleepy for one last thing?)_ Dean’s fingers slide over his back, hands pressing his fans down before running up his sides.

Castiel shivers at the touch, his adipose fins rippling. He’s tired, but there’s no way he wants to go to sleep when Dean’s warm hands are curving over his shoulders and along his collarbone. Dean’s teeth drag over his bottom lip and he can feel Dean’s smile against his mouth because he knows Castiel doesn’t need to answer with words. The tightening of his grip in Dean’s hair is answer enough.

Dean leans away, his thumb pressing up under Castiel’s chin to tilt his head back. To bare his throat like this puts him in a vulnerable position. His hands drop to Dean’s shoulders, and he presses his claws into the shirt covering them in warning. Dean’s fingers trace over the pulse in his neck. _(You still want to learn how to make hickeys?)_

He tightens his tail, the end of it twitching against Dean’s thigh. Castiel swallows and he can feel the motion pressing against Dean’s fingers. He bites his lip and nods, pulsing approval and desire into the kin-connection. His fans spread and creak when he feels the wash of Dean’s breath over his skin and he moves his hands to splay his fingers over Dean’s spine, pulling him closer.

_(It’s really simple, Cas. I bet you’ll get it first try.)_ Castiel holds his breath when Dean tilts his head and presses a kiss to his pulse point.

Dean’s fingers are almost too warm where they settle in the small of his back, thumbs brushing against the bottom spine of his back-fans. Castiel lets out his breath in a sharp burst when Dean’s tongue wets the place he kissed and there’s a brief scrape of teeth.

_(You’ll have to be more careful with yours – but you just do it like this.)_

Castiel can’t see it happening. He has to go by the touch of Dean’s lips. A small gasp escapes him when Dean seals his mouth over the pulse and _sucks_. He curls his fingers in Dean’s shirt and his fins rustle violently as Dean licks and sucks and bites at that one spot. Dean encourages every breathy little moan that Castiel makes, his approval and satisfaction curling warm through the kin-connection.

His breath is coming in quick, sharp bursts and Castiel’s heart is beating hard against his ribs. He’s certain Dean can feel it where their chests are pressed together. Castiel whines whenever Dean’s hands move, nails dragging softly over the skin along his sides and over his hips to palm the sharp jut of them.

There’s a slick sound when Dean moves from that one spot. Castiel hisses in surprise when Dean licks over the edge of his gills, tongue flicking over the scales that line them. Dean sits back again and licks his lips.

_(Hope you were taking notes. Although if you need a repeat performance, I’d be more than happy to show you again.)_ He grins, touching where he left his mark before dragging his fingertips lightly over his collarbone.

Dean sends the image into the kin-connection and heat thrums hot under Castiel’s skin at the mottled red and purple mark on his neck. Castiel uncurls from around Dean and pushes at his shoulders. Dean bounces when he falls against the bed and immediately he tilts his head back. The heat under Castiel’s skin is matched by the warmth throbbing through their link.

Castiel twines his tail around Dean’s legs and presses his nose to the underside of his jaw. Dean’s hands smooth over his sides in long, even strokes while Castiel licks over the stubble roughened skin. He tastes the same salt on his skin and Castiel can’t decide where he wants to leave his mark. A shiver slips down his spine and heat pools tight in his chest and below his stomach.

He gets to _mark_ him.

Dean will walk around in front of Pamela, Lilith, _everyone_ he knows bearing Castiel’s mark on his throat. On one of the most vulnerable places on his body. It makes a light, fluttery feeling fill his chest and swirl down into his stomach and back up.

Dean makes a soft noise of surprise and he jerks under him when Castiel cautiously tries dragging his teeth over Dean’s clavicle. His hands grips tightly over Castiel’s sides, the edge of his cast digging into his skin. Little red lines mark the shelf of his collarbone, but there is no blood and no broken skin.

Every so often, Dean’s hips roll up against his. Castiel decides on the hard center of Dean’s throat. He licks over it and he can feel the gentle vibrations of Dean’s pleased hum against his tongue.

_(Gonna do it there, Cas?)_ Anticipation curls around Dean’s words and he can feel the rapid race of his pulse against his lips.

Castiel closes his mouth over the skin and sucks. Dean makes a quiet, strangled noise in the back of his throat and his back arches. He pulls away a few moments later to inspect the small mark and he licks at it, feeling the heat of Dean’s blood under his skin. Castiel sucks and kisses and licks and he wants to bite, but the sharp points of his teeth would hurt him.

It would leave a more permanent mark. The kind of mark that Dean would bear long after Castiel goes home. It’s the kind of mark he wants to leave, to show that he was here. Dean doesn’t want that kind of mark. He hasn’t asked for it and Castiel won’t do it. He can’t. But every scrape of his teeth draws the most interesting noises and the sounds are addicting.

He tries not to think about where else he could kiss Dean that would draw those noises. Or what other kinds of sounds he could get Dean to make. Castiel presses his teeth around the mark while dragging his tongue over it. It’s not quite a bite but it shows that he _could_. He flares his fans possessively when Dean’s fingers press hard into his back and Dean groans.

Castiel pulls at the collar of Dean’s shirt, dragging it down until he can see one of Pamela’s marks. He kisses away from his first mark until he reaches the other. Dean’s brief flicker of confusion gives way immediately to understanding and amusement. A huff of laughter makes Dean’s chest shake under his and Dean’s hips are pushing up harder against him in slow thrusts.

Dean hums in approval while Castiel covers Pamela’s fading mark with one of his own. He tilts his head to give Castiel more room. The shirt won’t pull down far enough to show more of the marks and Castiel has to pull away entirely to push Dean’s shirt up and out of the way so he can get at the rest of them. No one might know or notice that these marks will no longer be Pamela’s.

Dean’s breath skips and stutters when his chest is bared, his shirt pushed up into the pits of his arms. Castiel moves from one spot to the other after he’s made it darker and wider, more obvious. Dean’s hands slide down his back and grip the swell of his tail below his back-fans.

The heat is dragging hot and quick through his body and pooling in his gut. He knows what the sharp push of Dean’s hips against him is, and the hardness pressing into his scales. It’s getting difficult to breathe and Dean’s scent is flooding his senses, making it hard to focus on anything else but the salt of his skin and the sounds Dean makes.

Castiel especially likes the nearly silent whine when his tongue drags over a mark close to one of his nipples. When he does it again, Dean twists his chest to press closer. Desire flows through the kin-connection accompanied with unspoken images that clearly show what he wants. Castiel complies immediately, licking curiously at the hardening nipple.

Dean makes the best sound then, and a quiet curse hisses between his teeth as he arches into the press of Castiel’s tongue. The noise dives through Castiel, tugging hard at his insides and burning into the pit of his stomach. He can feel the muscles of his sheath starting to twitch and Castiel should stop. He should stop because this is a dangerous line to cross and thinking about doing anything more makes the magma in his belly boil as panic knots behind his sternum.

His blood is rushing, searing his veins but he can’t stop until all of Pamela’s marks are his own. It’s pounding in his head and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. He’s gasping into Dean’s skin and his hands are starting to shake where they press into the bed.

Castiel barely notices the beep of the door, but Dean does. He surges up, pushing at Castiel’s shoulders. He rolls away and curls at the head of the bed, hugging the fold of his tail to his chest and pressing his face to his scales. He breathes slow, focusing on the in and out though his lungs again like he did before.

A part of him wants to wrap around Dean again, hold him to the bed and press their hips together. He wants to rub against him and find out all the different sounds that Dean can make. Castiel wants to bring himself to completion in the taste of Dean and lose himself in the scent of his skin. The want is coursing under his scales and it’s new and fantastic and _terrifying_.

The bed shifts when Dean stands and Castiel peeks up over the edge of his tail. Jess stops when she comes around the door. She blinks at Dean and he pauses while adjusting his shirt.

A knowing smile pulls at her lips. “Did I interrupt?”

“Kinda, yeah.” There’s only a slight embarrassment trembling the borders of Dean’s mind. “It’s pretty late, what are you doing here?”

“We left our extra pillows in here and Sam’s hogging the ones we’ve got.”

Dean laughs and shifts from side to side as an uncomfortable edge starts to colour his thoughts.  “Yeah, he does that. I’m pretty sure I warned you about that before you two got serious.”

Jess shrugs and her eyes slide from Dean to him. “Hi Castiel.”

He wiggles his fingers over his scales in a small wave and Dean glances back over his shoulder, a fond amusement warming his thoughts. Jess makes a soft noise and both of them look back to her. There’s a small smile tugging one side of her mouth up and she gestures at her throat.

“Nice artwork. That new?”

Dean grins and Castiel bites his lip when he reaches up and touches the mark. “Sure is. If you think this one is good, you should see the rest.” He tugs at the collar of his shirt and Jess rolls her eyes.

“I should be surprised you managed to seduce a merman, but I’m really, really not.” She shakes her head, laughing softly before crossing the room to get the pillows. When she stops at the door, her expression tightens and she opens her mouth as if to say something but she holds her tongue and shakes her head again. “You guys should get some rest soon. There’s a long day ahead of us.”

Confusion and a slight concern mark Dean’s thoughts as he waves her off. He locks the door behind her but by the time he turns around, Castiel is sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

_(As awesome as it would be to pick up where we left off, you need to get some sleep.)_

Castiel nods and he stifles a yawn when Dean picks him up. The small interruption with Jess was enough for the heat under his skin to cool. It’s enough for him to start to ignore it and he pointedly looks away from the mark on Dean’s throat.

Dean presses a kiss to his temple while he puts his tail over the glass-wall. _(You’re going to over think what just happened and I’m just saying, you shouldn’t. Don’t think about it. It happened, it was awesome, and it should totally happen again. There’s a whole lot more that you haven’t gotten to try yet and it’s all pretty damn awesome. Just enjoy it. Don’t think about it.)_

He hums and makes eddies in the water when he twists his tail through it. Castiel can’t guarantee that he won’t think about it, but he’s trying very hard not to right now. The edges of his mind are getting fuzzy and it’s not too hard to not focus on how he should have had better control over himself.

Castiel turns his head and presses a lazy kiss to the corner of Dean’s jaw, mumbling a ‘good night’ against his skin before sliding into the water. He sinks to the bottom and he chokes slightly as water fills his lungs before it rushes through his gills properly. Dean crouches on the other side of the glass-wall and Castiel turns onto his side, curling and tucking the end of his tail under his head. He pillows his cheek against his fins and Dean waves at it him.

_(Sweet dreams, Cas.)_

He sends a small burst of appreciation for the sentiment and he closes his eyes as Dean stands. He counts each breath until the darkness behind his eyelids becomes complete and he knows nothing past that.

x

When Castiel wakes, the first thing he notices are the emotions curling through the kin-connection from Dean. There’s surprise, unrest, embarrassment, and too many for Castiel’s still sleep addled mind to sort through. He yawns and unfolds, his tail sliding against the glass before he can stretch it toward the other end of the very-small-sea.

The second thing he notices is a familiar fading ache in his gut and the scent in the water. He sits up quickly and looks around sharply, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Dean is laying on his bed, his back toward Castiel. Cautiously, he reaches out for his mind and the brush of his thoughts makes Dean flinch.

_(Dean?)_

_(Yeah?)_

_(Did you… Did I…?)_

Dean shifts and turns his head slightly to look over his shoulder. _(I didn’t, and you did.)_

_(Oh.)_ He looks down at his lap and smoothes his hands over his scales. Castiel feeds his regret into the kin-connection. He doesn’t tell Dean that it’s because he’s disappointed that he can’t remember whatever he dreamed that brought him to this. _(I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.)_

He brushes aside Castiel’s apology and rolls over to sit up. _(This wasn’t my first sleepover, Cas. You had a happy dream and frankly after how many times you got blue balled yesterday, you deserved it. Sorry about that, by the way. I should have, y’know, done something about that.)_

Castiel shakes his head and glances up at Dean. _(It’s better that you didn’t. I would have… I don’t know.)_

_(Yeah, I get it.)_ Dean rubs at the back of his neck and indecision flares through his thoughts. He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling. _(Uh, I did – well I kinda… saw... I mean – I heard a thump – which I guess was you hitting the wall or something – and when I looked over you were kind of –)_ He gestures vaguely. _(I wouldn’t have looked if I had known.)_

He can feel a blush heat his gills and he looks away from the bruise colouring the middle of Dean’s throat. _(You’re lying.)_

_(Okay, yeah. I would totally peek. Just coz’, y’know, I’m curious and shit. And you peeked first so it’s only fair. But I swear that as soon as I saw what was going on, I didn’t look again.)_ Dean’s honesty curls around the images and his words.

Castiel chews on his bottom lip lightly and brushes his thumb over the dotted design that circles around his sheath. From what he’s seen through the kin-connection from Sam and Dean, and the brief glimpse of Dean in the shower that he caught yesterday. He knows that fin-kin and human males have similar genitals, but they are still very different both in size and shape.

_(Can I ask you something?)_ Dean prods his curiosity at Castiel’s mind. He nods and then winces at Dean’s question. _(Do all  fin-kin have glowing dicks, or is it just you?)_

He presses his lips together in a thin line and turns a disapproving glare on Dean. _(It’s not our penises that glow. It’s the glow-pattern on them.)_

_(So it’s not just on your tail? That’s… kinda really awesome.)_ Dean’s grin cools the edges of his glare.

_(We don’t just have them on our tails, Dean. Our glows are on our skin too.)_ Castiel stretches one of his arms above his head, showing off his side and the lines of blue stacked from his hip up until they curve over his lowest ribs.

He touches the circles above the scales on his cheeks and shares images of his nest brothers. First he shows Dean memories of Gabriel and the dotted bursts of lines that spread from his temple to his eyes and over his cheeks and the similar lines stretching from his scales towards his ribs. Next he shows the dotted orange line down the center of Michael’s throat, and the tower of lines marking the inside of his arm.

Dean’s lips purse around what must be a whistle, but Castiel can’t hear it through the water and glass. _(That’s awesome. Man, you guys look really badass and us humans are just so… blah.)_

_(Despite the cruelty I’ve seen that humans are capable of – you are still amazing.)_ Castiel shrugs and ruffles his fans. _(You make such interesting things; machines that can fly through the air, or float on the sea, or swim in the water. We make weapons and tools and trinkets. But nothing anywhere near what I’ve seen on this boat or in your memories. My colony evolved glows because we needed it. But you humans adjust your world instead of your bodies to fit your needs.)_

He can sense Dean’s impending argument and he smothers it, shaking his head. _(What time is it?)_

Dean’s frowns at the topic change and his irritation pulses slightly. _(Pushing close to midday.)_

His fans flare in surprise and Castiel pushes up and curls his tail underneath him, hunching forward to keep his head underwater. _(When is Lilith coming back?)_

_(A few hours. Five, six? They never really gave us much of a time frame beyond ‘afternoon’.)_ He stands and stretches, twisting at his waist. _(You hungry? You still have some bucket fish left.)_

Castiel shrugs. Anxiety is making his stomach turn and he doesn’t feel too hungry. He rests his palm over his stomach and he stares down at it until Dean’s concern makes him look back up.

_(You’re Lilith’s biggest prize. She’s not going to let Alistair actually hurt you. If they do try anything, it’ll be only as a scare tactic.)_ Dean crosses over to the very-small-sea and gestures for Castiel.

He pushes up to meet him, gripping the glass-wall’s edge. Dean holds his shoulders as he coughs the water from his lungs. He pushes Castiel’s hair back off his forehead. _(I want to promise you that I won’t let them do anything to you and that I’ll keep you safe, but I’ve been saying that since the beginning and I’ve been complete shit at it.)_

Castiel doesn’t like the self-loathing that leaks into the kin-connection before Dean snaps up the walls around his mind to hide them. He swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before leaning in to press his face against Dean’s neck.

_(You have your family to worry about. There’s no way you can keep all of us safe.)_ He fits his arms around Dean’s chest, clutching at the back of his shirt. _(Your family comes first. I understand that.)_

_(But you already got the short end of the stick with this shitty situation Sammy dragged you into, you shouldn’t be put on the backburner because of it.)_

Castiel noses the soft skin under his ear. _(You can’t protect everyone, Dean.)_

The growl in Dean’s throat mirrors the disapproval that burns through the kin-connection. _(It’s just – I wish I could. But we’re so out manned and out gunned and I’ve thought it over from every fucking angle and I still don’t see how we could come out on top without stealing a damn lifeboat and I don’t even know how we can get away with that without any casualties. It’s not fucking fair and even with what Dad taught me, I have no goddamn idea what to do.)_

Dean’s hug gets tighter and Castiel touches at his thoughts, skirting the walls that keep most of Dean’s emotions hidden from him. He can feel snatches of Dean’s anger, his confusion and concern. They echo his own. Castiel doesn’t know what to expect later and he’s worried about what Lilith might do to Dean and the others as punishment for the escape.

When Dean suddenly stands straighter, Castiel has to tighten his hold as he’s lifted from the water. He’s confused and surprised as Dean drags him over the glass-wall and carries him to the bed. He has to flatten his fans against his back when Dean drops him over the blankets.

_(Dean?)_

_(I said that the kissing trial period was only for last night.)_ Dean sits over Castiel, knees on either side of his tail. _(Do you still want to keep at it?)_

He stares up at Dean, his tail twitching over the bed behind him. Does he want to stop? Could he stop? Would he really be able to stop kissing Dean now, knowing that Dean wants him? That Dean wants to kiss him too?

He nods and the relief dancing along the edges of the kin-connection is not just his own.

 Dean presses his fingers to the mark over his pulse point. _(Lilith’s going to be really pissed about this.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple, rustling against the bedding. He hadn’t thought about that and he reaches up to touch the purple-red bruise darkening the center of Dean’s throat. A fluttery panic pushes at his lungs and, not for the first time, Castiel doesn’t know what to do. If Lilith will be mad at Dean for marking him, how might she react knowing that he marked Dean?

His hand slips to the blue-white cast encasing Dean’s left forearm. What if someone hurts Dean again? What if they separate them? Lilith was mad enough with just the kiss, but then she had said she didn’t care and they could do what they want. But she’s so _unpredictable_.

Dean leans down and presses a hard kiss to Castiel’s mouth. _(Calm down. You’ve got your ace in the hole. If they try anything, you can mind fuck them into next week.)_

Castiel’s anxiety disperses under the insistent push of Dean’s tongue and his hand drifting over his stomach. _(I don’t know if they’ll let me go with you this time, but you stay in my head, okay? Don’t you cut me out for anything. I want to know everything they’re doing.)_

He doesn’t understand why Dean would think he would sever the kin-connection. Castiel jerks from the kiss in surprise when Dean’s fingers move over his chest in teasing little circles. He presses, traces, pinches and rubs. Each small touch drags a sharp gasp from Castiel and he arches into the touch, scrabbling at Dean’s shoulders, trying to find something to hold onto.

The end of his tail smacks into the drawers, the crash of it startling them both.

Dean grins against his lips. _(See? Does it make sense now why I liked that yesterday?)_

Castiel drops his hand to cover Dean’s, stopping his fingers and holding it flat to his chest. He can practically feel the beating of his heart through Dean’s hand. He’s conflicted. He wants this but he doesn’t want this. He’s craving Dean’s touch and the heat of the hand pressed against his skin. But if he’s allowed more, will he get to have it again?

He doesn’t know if he can stand having anything beyond this now but never again.

Dean pauses, sitting back slightly. _(Cas? What’s wrong?)_

_(I – I can’t. Please.)_

Disappointment curls beneath the understanding. Dean presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. _(You’re not ready yet?)_

Castiel shakes his head and drags Dean back into a kiss. He doesn’t want to stop the kissing, and if he could leave more marks under Dean’s shirt or on his neck, he would very much like to do that again. Dean stretches out over him and tucks his hands under Castiel’s shoulders. The kisses stay slow and sweet with a gentle swipe of tongue every so often.

They stop only when the rumble of Castiel’s stomach makes Dean slide to one side and pull away with a laugh. Castiel tries dragging him back, hooking his tail over Dean’s hip. He gets more laughter for his efforts.

_(You haven’t eaten since supper yesterday and you barely ate that. I’ve gotta go to the washroom and get my own food and you should eat too.)_ Dean pushes up and tries to unfold Castiel’s tail. He only holds on tighter. _(Seriously. Every time, Cas? C’mon. I’ll be right back.)_

_(I want more kisses.)_ Castiel pulls at his shirt. _(Dean. Please.)_

Amusement and acquiescence flicker through the kin-connection and Dean dips his head to meet Castiel half way. He fixes his arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulls him back until they’re laying flat again. A purr rumbles in Castiel’s chest and Dean strokes a thumb over the scales on his cheek. When he tries to pull away again, Castiel nips as softly as possible at his bottom lip. It earns him a pleased groan and Dean presses forward again, tongue tasting deep.

Castiel makes a note that Dean likes that.

_(Cas, we’ve gotta – I’ll be back in just a few minutes.)_ Dean traces his hand down Castiel shoulder, along his side and over his tail. He tugs lightly at Castiel’s adipose fin. _(It’ll be faster if you wait here and nothing is going to happen. I can call Sam or someone back up here while I’m gone, if you want.)_

_(I want –)_

_(More kisses, yeah, I know. And I’m more than happy to provide – but seriously. Bathroom. Food. You’re hungry, I know you are.)_

Castiel grumbles, uncurling slowly. Dean crawls over him to get off the bed and Castiel glowers at him while he puts on his boots. He checks the pockets of his other pants before checking the top drawer. After a few moments of searching, he steps away with the white rectangle that unlocks the doors. He also has a string in his fist.

When he gives Dean the image of the string and his confusion, Dean unfolds his fist and holds out what is actually a necklace. Castiel sits up to inspect the pendant closely. It’s a small gold face with horns.

_(Sammy gave it to me when we were kids. I don’t wear it when I’m on shift because it could get caught in the machinery, and with everything that’s been going on with you and Lilith, I completely forgot about it.)_ He slips the string over his head and it hangs a hand span under his clavicle. _(That feels better. Kinda felt naked without it.)_

Dean moves the bucket with the dead grey fish in it closer to the bed. _(Make as big a mess as you want. I’m going to have to change the sheets anyway since they’re kinda wet now. I’ll be back in just a moment, I swear.)_

Castiel tries not to sulk when Dean leaves. He keeps a hold on the kin-connection and settles in the corner of the bed by the drawers. According to Dean, many people keep looking at his neck and Castiel’s very obvious mark. It sends a pleased, possessive feeling to settle hot in his chest.

A few times, Dean shows him what he sees while waiting in line for food in the big room with the many ledges and low ledges. Castiel sees all the many foods that are lined up in silver containers behind a glass wall.

People wearing white down their fronts put the food in a square container. Dean asks for extra of the French fries and Castiel’s fans flex excitedly. Dean promises to share with him as long as Castiel doesn’t eat enough to make his stomach hurt again. The tone of Dean’s words is teasing and Castiel flicks at his mind in retaliation.

Castiel picks up the book that he was reading yesterday and opens it to a random page. He sounds his way through a block of text that, if the picture of the sea-giant next to it means anything, is about them. It’s a breed Castiel has never seen before; a sea-giant of black and white. He traces the image and wonders if humans have sea-giants in cages too. When he turns the page, his question is answered. It’s a much larger small-sea than his own.

The door beeps while Castiel is reading aloud from that page. Dean stops in the door and grins. _(Say that again.)_

_(Say what?)_

_(What you were just reading.)_

Castiel blinks at him for a moment before looking down at the page again. “Tuh-chh-uh mm-o-s-tuh fff-aye-mm-o-uh-sss kay-ill-er wuh-aye-lee-ss aye-rrr-ee –”

Dean snickers and waves his free hand. _(Stop, stop. Did you forget that letter combinations change the way they sound?)_

He frowns down at the book. Yes, he had forgotten. _(Then how is that supposed to sound?)_

“The most famous killer whales are –”

Castiel closes the book with a snap and drops it back on top of the drawers. _(After we eat can we try writing instead? Can we spell my name?)_

_(We could try.)_ Dean sits next to him and Castiel retrieves a few fish from the bucket before they settle with their backs to the wall.

Castiel stretches his tail over the edge of the bed and idly swishes it side to side while they eat. He offers Dean some of his fish in exchange for some French fries, but Dean immediately turns him down, wrinkling his nose at the bones and flesh. He shares his the fries anyway. When Castiel licks his hands clean of the salt and the fish, Dean offers his own and wiggles his fingers, a teasing grin pulling at his lips.

He stares at Dean’s twitching fingers. Castiel knows exactly what Dean is asking, and he knows that doing that would be considered something sexual. Dean had said previously that he thought that cleaning his fingers this way was sexy. Doing this, cleaning Dean’s hands with his lips and tongue, it shouldn’t be any worse than placing his marks on Dean’s skin, especially in such a visible place, but it’s still _different_.

It’s different enough to make his heart race and his skin to prickle and his breath to skitter hard through his lungs.

Dean laughs and his hand drops. Castiel catches him around the wrist and lifts his hand back up. The amusement tripping pleasantly through the kin-connection falls away into a heated, pulsing anticipation. Castiel licks at his fingers, trailing his tongue down to the dip between each one. He sucks softly at the skin between thumb and index.

His side-fans twitch at the slick sound of Dean licking his lips and Castiel catches the sharp inhale when he slides his lips over Dean’s middle finger and sucks at the taste still clinging to his skin. His chest hurts with how little he’s breathing and how hard his heart is beating. Dean swallows audibly when Castiel cleans the rest of his fingers and moves on to his other hand. It’s more difficult with the blue-white cast in the way, but Dean still makes the soft gasping noise when he’s teeth press against the pads of his fingers.

Castiel can feel heat rising in his face and he sits back without looking at Dean when he’s done. He can make an educated guess at what Dean will look like and if he sees it, he’s not sure what will happen. He draws his tail up and folds it against his chest. He rests his chin on the bend of it.

_(That was… Wow. Thanks. I wasn’t actually expecting you to do it.)_

He makes a small noise that could be a laugh but he’s not really sure if it is. _(Neither was I.)_

_(We should… we should clean up. Yeah, clean up. And, um, brush our teeth.)_

Castiel sends a pulse of disdain through the kin-connection. The mint is refreshing, but he dislikes the coppery taste of his own blood when the toothbrush makes his gums bleed. He flares his fans unhappily when Dean stands and gets a bucket from the corner under the wall-ledge where he dumps his empty white container. He brings it over for Castiel to put the bones of his fish in and he leaves it next to him.

It’s where Castiel spits the foaming toothpaste after he’s done brushing his teeth to Dean’s satisfaction. Dean puts the toothbrush and toothpaste away and starts to tidy the area. Castiel rubs his tongue over the smooth faces of his teeth and breathes the scent of the mint.

After he’s done cleaning up, Dean brings one of the chairs over and Castiel slips from the bed to it. He holds his tail out of the way while Dean pushes him to the ledge. Dean pulls up the other chair and sits next to him. From a few drawers under the ledge, he gets the short sticks he calls ‘pens’ and a handful of the white rectangles he calls ‘paper’.

He spreads them out before them and twiddles the pen between his fingers. When he speaks, it’s with his throat voice, but he translates the words through the kin-connection.  “So your name is pronounced Castiel, right?”

“Cas-tee-elle.” He nods, leaning closer when Dean puts the end of the pen to the paper.

“Okay. So there are a few letters to choose to start your name. C or K.” He writes them both, one above the other. “And the ‘as’ is easy enough to figure out.” Dean adds an ‘a’ and an ‘s’ after the ‘C’ and the ‘K’.”

Castiel looks from the paper and up at Dean while he chews on the other end of the pen. “And I guess the ‘t’ comes next. But should it be an ‘i’ or an ‘e’ that follows that?” He writes down the ‘Kast’ and the ‘Cast’ again and after each one he adds either letter. There are four lines on the sheet now and Castiel watches as Dean adds more variations ending in ‘el’ or ‘elle’.

“I think that’s all of them.” Dean sits back and rubs a hand through his hair. “Well that’s about all the different ways we can spell your name phonetically. So, uh, I guess you just pick whichever one looks best?”

Castiel takes the paper and he scrutinizes the list. There are a few that he likes the look of, but he holds the list out to Dean. _(Which do you like?)_

Dean doesn’t hesitate to point. “That one. It just… feels right.”

He puts the paper down and nods. “C-A-S-T-I-E-L. Good.” Castiel turns his smile to Dean and holds out his hand for the pen. “Please?”

Carefully, Dean puts the pen in Castiel’s hand and folds his fingers around it in the proper way to hold it. He has to move it further down in Castiel’s fingers than he holds it himself because of Castiel’s claws. The end of it pushes uncomfortably against the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, but Castiel ignores it as Dean wraps his hand around his and moves it to the paper.

Under Dean’s guidance, they spell out Castiel’s name again before Dean lets him try on his own. It’s much more shaky and uneven when Castiel does it alone. After the fifth time, Castiel is more sure with the movement. With another pen, Dean writes out the whole alphabet in both uppercase and lowercase and he passes the paper to Castiel to copy out beneath it.

_(How do I write your name?)_

“D-E-A-N.”

Castiel carefully writes out the few letters and his adipose fans ripple happily when Dean pats his arm as praise. He gets a squeeze to his shoulder when he writes out Sam’s name without having to ask how to spell it. But he stumbles on Jess’s name, using the ‘G’ and only one ‘s’. When Dean writes out ‘Jessica’, Castiel learns that is her full name and that ‘Jess’ is her nickname like ‘Cas’ is his.

They determine together how to spell Castiel’s nest-siblings names and Castiel writes their names over and over in the smallest letters he can make on a single sheet of paper. Dean does what he calls ‘doodles’, where he draws random images, like swirls and something he calls a ‘pie’ and ‘stick figures’. One of the doodles takes the shape of Castiel’s glow pattern.

Dean shows him a game called ‘tic-tac-toe’. He draws two lines horizontally, and two lines vertically, both intersecting the horizontal lines. It sort of forms nine squares in three rows of three squares. The premise of the game is simple enough. One person draws ‘x’s and one draws ‘o’s. Whoever gets three in a row either horizontally, vertically or diagonally, wins the game.

Castiel stares at the squares for a few minutes, much to Dean’s exasperation, before he places his circle in the center square. Dean places his ‘x’ in the left center square. His next ‘o’ goes in the bottom right corner. Before Dean puts his mark, he squints at the paper and frowns at it as he places his ‘x’ in the top left corner to prevent Castiel from winning.

His back-fans flex in amusement and Castiel puts his ‘o’ in the bottom left to stop Dean from winning. He grins at Dean while he looks at the paper. Dean shoves it away with a soft snort of derision. _(Beginners luck.)_

_(Strategy. I’m a skilled tactician, Dean.)_ There is more than a little bit of pride colouring his thoughts  and Castiel straightens his shoulders. _(If I was more familiar with boats and all the many different weapons humans have, I would be of more help with planning an escape.)_

_(But Lilith is so fucking paranoid that any time I think we’ve found an advantage, she’s got something to contradict it and I just – how the hell are we supposed to even –)_ He makes a frustrated noise and his movements as he draws the tic-tac-toe lines again are sharp and vicious. Dean puts his ‘x’ in the center first and pushes the page over in front of Castiel.

Castiel wins again.

He wins the next four games until Dean steals all the paper and draws rows of dots over an entire page. Castiel watches, amused and intrigued, while Dean explains the point of the game is to take turns drawing lines between dots on the grid. They use different coloured pens for it. Castiel gets blue and Dean takes red. The person who completes the fourth line of a square gets to put their initial in the center of the box. Whoever has the most boxes at the end wins the game.

It takes a long time for them to finish because Dean drew so many dots.

Castiel wins again.

Dean crumples the paper and tosses it into the bucket with the remnants of their food in it. He crosses his arms over his chest and slouches back in his chair, glaring hard at the papers spread across the ledge. He sits forward again and draws a square. Inside the square he draws several lines that create more little squares. Over each column, he draws the first eight symbols from the clock, starting with the single straight up-down line. At the start of the rows, he writes the letters A through H.

Dean passes the paper to Castiel and repeats the drawing on another paper. On a third paper, he draws a long rectangle that he breaks into four squares, another that he breaks into three, another into two squares, and just one single square.

_(Don’t show me your sheet and don’t look at mine. Now place those four shapes somewhere on your grid and don’t tell me where.)_ Dean folds his arm around his paper and presses his head into the crook of his elbow to protect his page while he carries out his own instructions.

Castiel does the same, angling his paper away from Dean as he outlines the squares where he wants his pieces to go. When they’re both done, Dean covers his grid with his hand and sits back. _(Now what we do is say which square we want to hit. If you want the top left, it’s A-1. Bottom right is H-8. Okay?)_ He nods and Dean continues. _(Draw an ‘x’ through the squares named. If one of the squares I pick falls inside one of those shapes you drew, you colour in that square. When all the squares for that shape are full, that means I sunk your ship.)_

_(These rectangles are supposed to represent boats?)_ Castiel raises his eyebrow, looking down and tilting his head. The rectangles look nothing like the shape of a boat.

_(Yeah. This game is called ‘Battleship’. I’ll start. E-3.)_

Castiel puts a mark through the empty square and stares at his grid. He thinks about Dean and what he knows of him, of how he acts and thinks. His first two guesses are misses, but the third, fourth and fifth all hit. He sinks Dean’s single square.

Dean sinks his two-square boat.

He’s in the process of sinking what could be Dean’s three-square or four-square boat when the pocket of his top-shirt starts making beeping noises like the door. He flips his paper over and sits back. The beeping is coming from his phone, not the shirt itself. Dean flips it open and the longer he looks at the screen, the deeper his frown gets.

Anger swarms into the kin-connection and it’s choked with uneasiness. He snaps the phone shut and looks up at Castiel. _(Lilith’s helicopter was just spotted. She’s going to be dropped off soon.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he immediately looks toward the door. _(Is she coming to us right away?)_

_(We don’t know.)_ Dean rubs both hands through his hair before resting his elbows on the ledge and holding his head in his hands. _(We should have been working on getting out and we were playing games.)_

_(I was.)_

Dean tilts his head to look at him sideways. _(What?)_

_(I liked the games. They were fun. And while we were playing, I was thinking.)_ Castiel shifts on the chair, his tail curling around the base in the opposite direction. _(Azazel did what I asked because I was attacking his mind. It’ll be difficult, but I should be able to do the same to multiple people at the same time. If I can incapacitate Gordon and Alistair, I could get Lilith to let us all go – you and Sam and the others in a lifeboat with supplies and me into the sea.)_

Dean stares at him for several moments, surprise and disbelief ringing through their link. Without warning he stands and sends his chair skittering back to knock against the wall of the very-small-sea. He cups Castiel’s face and he’s grinning into the hard push of a kiss.

_(Goddamn! You’re fucking_ awesome _!)_ He presses kiss after kiss to Castiel’s lips and all he can really do is grip Dean’s arms until he’s done. _(If you do that, if we get offa this nightmare tonight, that’ll just be so –)_ He stops and his feelings vanish from the kin-connection, sucked behind the walls around his mind again.

Castiel wishes he didn’t know why Dean was staring down at him while the emotion drains from his face. He wishes he wasn’t feeling the suffocating press of dread curling tight around his chest. He wishes he wasn’t feeling the regret twisting hard in his throat.

Right now, before Lilith arrives, this could be one of the last moments he gets to spend with Dean. He has no guarantee that his plan will work. And if it does he has no way of knowing if he’ll have any time with Dean between his attack and their escape.

He reaches up and Dean needs no coercion to lean back down. Castiel is rough and desperate with the kiss. He thinks he might taste blood and he must have bitten or cut Dean’s lip with his teeth but Dean hasn’t stopped him and he’s not going to. He holds tight when Dean slips his right arm under the bend of his tail over the chair’s edge, and his other around Castiel’s back.

Dean lifts him and Castiel wraps his tail around Dean’s waist. It’s a staggered walk to Dean’s bed. He stumbles into his abandoned chair, the wall of the very-small-sea, and the drawers at the end of his bed. Dean turns and drops backward onto it, barely sitting before he’s collapsing back to lay with Castiel above him.

Castiel sends his displeasure into the link when Dean breaks the kiss with a final suck to his tongue. Dean still isn’t sharing his emotions and he does nothing to soothe Castiel’s irritation with anything beyond the press and slide of his lips and tongue over the stubbled line of his jaw. He doesn’t know what Dean’s intentions are, but he doesn’t think there’s anything Dean could do right now that could be bad.

He tilts his head back and hums in approval as Dean kisses along his neck, over his gills and down the slope of his shoulder. He tongues at the spine of his back-fan and the scales surrounding its base. Castiel isn’t entirely certain where exactly Dean opens his mouth, but his fans flare when he starts to suck another mark against his skin.

Castiel bites his lip to stifle the little sounds that keep clawing from his throat. He jerks in surprise when Dean’s hand fumbles against his chin and fingers push at his lips. He opens to the insistent touch and two fingers press in over his tongue.

_(Don’t you dare stop those sounds.)_ Dean scrapes his teeth across  Castiel’s collarbone again and he kisses at the hollow of his throat. _(I want to hear you, Cas.)_

He whimpers around Dean’s fingers and his fins ripple wildly when Dean dips his head and presses his tongue over one of his nipples. His tail keeps curling and uncurling over Dean’s legs. He twitches again, and tries – fails – to stifle his cry when Dean actually _bites_. It’s not hard, it’s not painful. It’s surprising. The sharp burn of heat through his veins is almost more than he can bear and he thinks, briefly, of telling Dean to stop.

He doesn’t.

Castiel groans Dean’s name around his fingers and he can actually _feel_ the shudder that shakes through Dean’s body. He pulls his fingers free and Castiel barely manages to lick his lips before Dean is kissing him insistently. There’s something pushing at the kin-connection, but it’s not substantial. It’s pushing out from inside the walls around Dean’s mind and he knows there are things Dean is thinking that he’s not sharing, but there’s an anticipation twisting before them. Like Dean wants to share them, but he’s holding back.

It’s too hard to focus on that when Dean keeps curling and flicking and licking and stroking with his tongue and his lips and his hands never hold still. Castiel’s arms are starting to shake with trying to keep holding himself up.

Dean’s phone starts beeping again. And they both groan in disappointment. It’s Castiel who pulls away first. He waits until Dean gets the phone out of his pocket before he lets his arms give out and he falls against him. He’s struggling to catch his breath, his face pressed to the curve of Dean’s shoulder. Dean is panting too.

He hears the click of the phone being opened and he feels how Dean tenses under him.

_(She’s here.)_


	16. Conditioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s certain that he can overload the kin-connection before they can stop him. He hates that he has to use it this way. It goes against everything he’s ever been taught. But it’s been nearly two rotations since he was captured and the longer he waits, the harder it will be to get home. 
> 
> The harder it will be to leave Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, seraphlimonade, luminateshit, tigersinlondon, alphamishka1508, hydraarill, silent-asmodeus, krevlornswaths , gdayidgits, leviatiel, breezy1212, coubline, chihayaxyayoi, dead-grin, aroadtoperdition, sharysisnhmoonshadow, ziay, damnuhotstuff, draconicanimagus, and jesse-not-jessie.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel presses his hands into Dean’s sides, curling his fingers into his shirt. He’s torn. He wants to go home, but he wants to stay with Dean. He wants Dean and his family safe, but he wants his freedom and his kin. And he’s scared. He’s scared that when they get out, when they go their separate ways, Dean will forget him or he’ll forget Dean.

He’s terrified of the future. There is so much he doesn’t _know_. He doesn’t know which direction to go to get home. He doesn’t know if the enemy fin-kin, the fang-fin, will still be at war with his colony. He doesn’t even know if the colony will still be in the trench or if they’ll have moved on, worried that Castiel might lead humans back to them.

Dean’s hand settles over the back of his neck, fingers gently squeezing intermittently. The cast on his other arm is resting across the small of Castiel’s back. _(Don’t panic. Panicking will just make things harder. We’ll deal with things as they come, okay?)_

He turns his face into the side of Dean’s neck and works his tail to wrap around one of his legs. Dean lifts his leg to give him the space to do so. He’s always accommodating Castiel’s needs and wants, even when they can’t be very comfortable for him. And Dean hasn’t asked him for one thing, not one.

_(We should soak you up before they get here. It’s the least we can do to keep you comfortable.)_ Dean rubs his fingers up into Castiel’s hair. _(C’mon, get up.)_

Castiel shakes his head and pushes his hands under Dean’s back. He doesn’t want to move. He wants to stay just like this, wrapped around Dean and breathing his scent and basking in his heat. Dean keeps working his fingers through Castiel’s hair in gentle sweeps. He doesn’t ask Castiel to move again and understanding washes through the kin-connection to cover over his thoughts with comfort.

They lay like that for much longer than either of them expected before the door beeps. Dean pushes himself up, forcing Castiel to curl and twist in his lap just to be able to see who is coming in. He flares his fans and hisses when Alistair walks around the door and stops to lean against the corner of small-sea.

“Good afternoon boys! Your Lord and Master has returned from on high and she’s granting you the honour of her presence.”

Castiel growls and bares his fangs. “No.”

One of Alistair’s eyebrows twitches up and his annoying smile grows. “’No’. Really? Is that the best thing for you to say right now?”

Dean presses his fingers into Castiel’s hip in warning when he growls again. “Does she want me too, or just Cas?”

Alistair shrugs and his expression turns bored. Everything about him is irritating and Castiel’s adipose fins ripple in displeasure. “I can’t fathom why, but she wants to see the both of you. Gather what things you need. We’ve got the trolley waiting. Unless, of course, you’d rather carry your boyfriend yourself?”

Dean’s grip over his hip almost hurts and exasperation sparks bright and hard through the kin-connection. Castiel doesn’t need to look to know that Dean is glaring at Alistair. “Just get the damn trolley. How long do we have?”

“Be ready to go in five.”

Alistair gestures at the door and one of the guards pushes the trolley through. Castiel is reluctant in letting Dean go as he untangles from his tail and gets to his feet. He gestures for Alistair to leave, but he doesn’t move from his new position leaning against the ledge running along the opposite wall. Castiel glares at him even as Dean helps him slide onto the trolley and get comfortable.

Dean fills a bucket with the water from the very-small-sea. Small-sea still sits empty and Castiel briefly wonders if it’ll ever be full again. Dean is more liberal and less careful than usual with pouring water over Castiel’s tail and his side-fans and back-fans. He doesn’t take the time to work it into his adipose fins or webbing. When he’s done, he refills the bucket again and puts it on the trolley for Castiel to curl his tail around and hold it in place.

They’re not saying anything in the kin-connection, but Dean keeps feeding calm thoughts through their link. Castiel isn’t sure if he needs it or not. His chest feels tight, constricted with worry because he has no idea what’s going to happen next. He’s scared, but he has his plan and his plan should work just fine – he just needs Lilith, Alistair and Gordon to be present. It would be even more beneficial if Azazel was there too.

He’s certain that he can overload the kin-connection before they can stop him. He hates that he has to use it this way. It goes against everything he’s ever been taught. But it’s been nearly two rotations since he was captured and the longer he waits, the harder it will be to get home.

The harder it will be to leave Dean.

Dean takes a moment to put his boots on. He sits on the edge of the trolley while he ties them. Castiel knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it. He’s memorizing the freckles on Dean’s cheeks and over the bridge of his nose, the way his hair is thicker at the front than it is at the back and how it sticks up because he’s always running a hand through it.

When Dean stands again, Castiel tugs at his pant leg until Dean crouches again. Even with Alistair watching, Dean still leans in and kisses him. Defiance flares across the kin-connection as Dean pushes forward, titling Castiel’s head back with the force of it. The kiss isn’t nearly as long as Castiel would like it to be, cut short by Alistair’s noise of disapproval.

The trolley jerks as Dean pulls it around to go out the door. Alistair has Lilith’s card to get them into the elevator. He keeps trying to make idle conversation with Dean, but turns to talking to the guards when Dean says nothing in response. He’s leaning against the metal arch behind Castiel and keeps absentmindedly running his fingers through Castiel’s hair.

When they exit out onto the deck, Castiel feels the world-breath press at his skin again. The steady-blue reminds him of Anna’s tail. There are wisps of white curling through it and when Castiel asks, Dean tells him they’re called clouds and he explains about moisture and crystals and it’s enough to distract Castiel from thinking about how the ocean is so close and so far and that he can smell the salt of the sea and it’s calling to him and he can’t go to it.

He closes his eyes to the bright-pearl when they come to the end of a wall. It’s warm on his skin, but it hurts to look toward it. He listens to the clicks and beeping of doors, but he doesn’t look around again until the trolley comes to a stop. Lilith’s cloying scent is everywhere and it itches at his nose, like the way it did the first time he was brought here.

Lilith isn’t in the room when he looks around. Gordon is sitting on an angular chair with four legs, the back of it resting against the wall by the extravagant double doors. His upper lip curls in a sneer when he sees that Castiel is looking at him. The guards aren’t here either and his confusion is brushed aside by Dean’s quick explanation that they stayed outside. Alistair drops down onto a plush bed with a built in wall. Dean calls it a ‘couch’.

“Where’s Lilith?” Dean asks, looking from Alistair to Gordon while he moves the bucket of water from the trolley.

Gordon tilts his head toward the normal-door on the opposite side of the room from him. “She’ll be here momentarily.”

_(Calls us over and she isn’t even ready to play yet.)_ Dean’s thoughts are tripping with annoyance and anticipation. He’s nervous and excited and worried and Castiel is starting to feel oddly calm in comparison.

It’s a familiar feeling. The same he used to get before every battle or sparring exercise. His fingers are twitching against his scales, but the rest of his body feels light. A strange sense of serenity is settling in his bones, and his thoughts are clearing. Anything unnecessary is being discarded and he’s left with nothing but his focus on the task at hand.

Dean notices and his confusion presses through the kin-connection. He meets Dean’s eyes and holds them. He doesn’t have words to explain battle-calm, but he shares the feeling and he’s answered with understanding. Castiel moves his tail so Dean can sit on the end of the trolley. He curves it around his hips and it’s Dean who pulls the end into his lap, his fingers playing absently with the adipose of his end-fans.

The room isn’t silent for long before Gordon gets up and walks over to them. Castiel’s fans flare in warning and he watches Gordon cautiously when he steps up next to the trolley. He leans away from the dart-gun Gordon uses to gesture at him.

“And here I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck the fish.”

Dean’s hand tightens over Castiel’s tail and he doesn’t translate the words. He recognizes a curse word that Dean uses often, but he doesn’t know what Gordon could be cursing about. Dean’s shoulders straighten and his back goes stiff. He turns to look over his shoulder, eyes hard and dangerous.

“Cas isn’t a fish.”

Alistair makes an amused noise from the couch. “Not denying the fucking then?”

Castiel flicks the end of his tail against Dean’s thigh. _(What does that mean?)_

_(It’s nothing. Ignore it.)_ Dean turns his glare to Alistair. “There’s nothing to deny.”

_(This isn’t the first time Gordon has mentioned it. Why aren’t you translating?)_ His fans twitch in annoyance and he tightens his tail. _(If you’re trying to protect me from something, don’t. Tell me.)_

Frustration folds through the kin-connection and Dean stifles a growl when Gordon walks around the trolley and uses the end of the dart-gun to make him tip his head back. Castiel leans forward and hisses when Gordon presses it against the hickey on his throat.

“You didn’t have that the last time you were in here and you haven’t visited any of your hook-ups since. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you and the fish are fucking.”

Dean jerks back and smacks the dart-gun away. “Cas isn’t a fish and we’re not fucking!”

He does translates the words this time and Castiel’s adipose fins ripple in surprise. He fights the blush rising over his gills and stares down at his hands. Gordon and Alistair are implying that he and Dean are having sex. But they’re not – they haven’t –

_(That’s why I wasn’t telling you. Don’t freak out.)_ Dean runs his hand over the end of Castiel’s tail and squeezes the tip of it. _(It doesn’t matter what they think. They’re idiots and they have no clue what’s actually going on. You were all calm before, so stick to that, okay? Don’t freak out.)_

Gordon crouches in front of Dean and he turns his disgusted look to Castiel for a moment before smirking at Dean. “So are you the one taking it? Far as we can tell, he doesn’t have any place you can stick it. Unless you’re using that mouth of his. You’ve got some _balls_ to do that. Have you even seen his teeth?”

Rage burns through their link and Castiel feels Dean tense under his tail. Castiel hisses again and flicks his tail out of Dean’s grip. Gordon flinches in surprise and falls heavily on his – what did Dean call it – his ‘ass’. Dean makes an amused noise and pats Castiel tail when he resettles it in his lap.

“Careful what you say, Gordon. Cas doesn’t like your accusations.”

“That’s enough.”

Everyone turns to look toward the door on the far side of the room. Lilith closes it behind her. She’s wearing the same long white dress she was wearing the day Castiel met her. Gordon gets to his feet smoothly and quickly goes back to the chair by the double-doors. Dean starts to stand but Castiel tightens his tail around him.

Lilith is smiling. It’s wide and fake and terrifying. “Castiel. Dean. How nice to see you again.” She makes a motion with her hand and Alistair moves from the couch. She sits where he was before and gestures at the couch opposite her. “Why don’t you two make yourselves more comfortable? There are a few things that I would like to discuss with you.”

Dean looks back at him, eyebrow raised. _(Are you going to do it now, or later?)_

Castiel lets the calm settle again and he focuses on feeling the minds of everyone in the room. _(Does Alistair have a dart-gun too?)_

_(I don’t think so. I didn’t see him packing anything. But I wouldn’t put it past him to have one hidden somewhere. If you’re going to take out whoever has the gun, it would be better to hit them both at the same time.)_ Dean stands and Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders when he lifts him from the trolley. _(When are you going to do it?)_

He folds his fans close against his back when Dean puts him on the couch, taking care that they don’t get caught on anything. _(Put the trolley near the double-doors, it will get you closer to Gordon. As soon as he’s down, take his dart-gun. Things will move more smoothly if you have a weapon too.)_

Dean’s approval curls through the kin-connection and he pats Castiel once on the shoulder before he goes back to the trolley. Lilith is staring at Castiel’s neck, her eyes narrowed. She looks to Dean when he moves the bucket closer to where Castiel is sitting – keeping up the ruse that they’re listening to orders. Her expression turns cold and hard. She watches him for a moment before looking back to Castiel and fixing another of her fake smiles in place.

“I assume Dean is translating for you.” She smoothes her dress over her lap and barely acknowledges Castiel’s nod. “In light of what happened previously, I think you’ll understand why I’m not demanding for you to talk to me like before.”

Castiel is barely paying attention to what Dean is translating for him. His breathing is slow and deep, centering himself as he focuses. He’ll need his anger to attack their minds properly. He thinks of everything that Alistair or Gordon or Lilith have done to upset him. He remembers Alistair tricking him and putting the poison in his arm that made him unable to move. He thinks about how they stole his blood and the scales from his tail. He thinks about Gordon’s hateful words and when Alistair had Dean pinned and broke his arm.

The rage boils in his stomach and his lungs start to feel too small. He reaches out and finds the minds of Gordon and Alistair. Lilith looks over sharply at a quiet, surprised noise from Alistair. He doesn’t wait to push all his anger through the links, shoving it violently into their minds. Castiel can feel when Gordon’s thoughts buckle, and Alistair’s shout echoes in the room. He watches as Lilith jumps to her feet, her hand moving to grip the pendant of the necklace around her throat.

His world ruptures.

The last thing he knows is Dean’s spiking concern before the kin-connection is ripped from him violently.

x

Castiel is cold. His entire body aches and his head is throbbing. It hurts more than it ever has any time when he wakes after being put to sleep by the dart-poison. He tries moving and groans at the discomfort that pulls at his muscles.

“Oh good, he’s awake.”

Lilith’s pleased tones dig into his head and Castiel hisses unhappily. He recognizes the words and knows what they mean, but it’s not how he’s used to understanding. Castiel doesn’t have the kin-connection with anyone right now and it only makes his head hurt to try and reach out for someone. He doesn’t even know where Dean is.  

“Come now, Castiel. Rise and shine.” Someone pats his cheek and Castiel tilts his head away from it, groaning at the dull ache that spreads down his spine at the movement.

He squeezes his eyes tight against the bright light that presses at his eyelids. He moves to cover them with his hand, but his arm stops short when he tries to lift it. Something cold and hard is wrapped around his wrist and higher up on his arm.

The patting to his cheek turns sharper and Lilith’s voice gets colder. “Wake _up_ , Castiel.”

Alistair’s voice starts next. It sounds different than usual, strained and thick. “Use short words and keep it to something he’s likely to have learned from Winchester.”

Castiel hisses and turns his face from the bright light. He recognizes that last word as one used to refer to Dean. Dean. Where is he? “Dean?”

 “No.” Someone pulls at his hair, twisting his head back so the light is pressing at his eyes again. “No Dean. Wake _up_.”

No Dean? Why? Where is he? What did they to do him?

Worry starts thrumming through his veins and Castiel twitches, pulling at the cold hard things holding his arms. He shifts and trembles and everything hurts. He thinks his arms are being held down at his sides, but he can’t be sure. He tries drawing his tail up, but it won’t move. Hard things are pressing down over his scales in more than one place.

He squints against the light when he opens his eyes. Lilith is leaning over him, her smile stretched wide and she looks too pleased with herself for Castiel’s liking. She lets go of his hair and pats him on the cheek again.

“That’s a good boy.”

Castiel twists where he can, looking around the room. There’s a bright light on bending rods above him. He tries sitting up, but Lilith pushes at his shoulders and forces him to lay flat again. He thinks he’s on a table, but he can’t be sure without being allowed to check. There are other tables around and big machines he doesn’t know or recognize. They’re like nothing Dean has shown him in his memories.

Alistair is sitting at a table against the wall. His chair is much taller than any Castiel has seen before and he keeps touching things that make clinking noises. He tries sitting up again when Lilith turns away, just enough to look down at his body. Bands of metal are holding his wrists and his upper arms to the table, and rope is looped over his hips, half way down his tail, and closer to the end. It pinches his adipose fins to the table.

Lilith makes an annoyed noise when she turns around. She presses him back down again and she glares down at him. “Don’t move.”

Castiel hisses, baring his teeth and trying to twist away from her touch. His head hurts and it’s hard to focus, but he tries to remember all the words he’s learned over the last several days. His pronunciation is stilted at best. “Dean. Want Dean. Where Dean?”

She frowns and pulls a loop of string from around her wrist. She uses it to tie her hair back before she leans out of sight. “Forget him.”

He doesn’t know those words. Or he might know them but he can’t remember. Castiel starts pulling at the bands over his wrists. They dig painfully into his skin. “Dean okay? Dean hurt?”

Lilith makes the same annoyed noise and stands back up. She’s holding the blue collar again and Castiel growls. His wrists and arms burn where he twists them against the bonds, trying to wiggle them free. It’s too tight and he can’t even get the meat of the heel of his palm through it, even when he tries pressing his thumb and little finger together to narrow his hand.  

He curls his shoulders and tries leaning away when she reaches forward with the collar. “No! No collar! Not pet!” Her fingers are cold on his throat and Castiel hisses. She steps away quickly when he snaps at her hand.

“Alistair, come hold him still while I put this on.”

“No!” The end of his tail makes a slapping noise on the table and Castiel struggles harder.

“That has metal on it. If you’re planning on training him right now, I wouldn’t suggest putting that on until you’re done. It’ll leave marks.” Alistair doesn’t even look up but Lilith makes a face and puts it out of sight.

Alistair slips off his chair and he staggers slightly when he walks over. He pulls the table with his clinking things on it and he moves out of sight somewhere above Castiel’s head. Castiel tries turning to keep him in sight, but it hurts his neck and he can’t keep Lilith in sight when he does. She’s standing too close. Castiel narrows his eyes at Lilith and reaches for her mind. She flinches at the first touch and her hand goes to the pendent around her neck again.

Pain flares suddenly through his head and down his spine and Castiel isn’t sure if he screams or whether or not his back bows from the table. Everything ripples in his vision and then there is darkness.

He wakes to water splashing over his face.

Alistair is leaning over his tail and pulling at his adipose fins. Lilith has her elbows on the table beside Castiel’s head and her chin is propped on one hand, the other holds an empty cup that she shakes out over his chest.

“Don’t make me do that again, Castiel. I don’t like hurting you.” She puts the cup aside and tucks her hand under her chin. She almost looks bored and it irks him. Lilith tilts her head to look toward Alistair. “Can you turn down the juice so it doesn’t knock him out every time? It’ll be easier to train him if he stays conscious.”

Alistair doesn’t even bother looking up. “We could. It’s just a matter of changing the signal. What kind of samples am I allowed to take?”

She waves her hand. “Anything that doesn’t leave scars. He’s perfect and I don’t want him messed up. Turn down the wattage first. If he tries again, I don’t want him out.”

Castiel doesn’t understand any of this and it’s just making his head hurt to listen to all these words. He needs to make the kin-connection, but the pain had happened the last time he touched Lilith’s mind and he doesn’t want that to happen again. It had happened the first time when he had been attacking Alistair and Gordon and he’s not sure how or why but he does know that it happens when Lilith touches her necklace.

It’s hard to focus, but he tilts his head to see the pendant hanging around her neck. It’s nothing but a circle with an outline of another circle at the center. It doesn’t look like anything special, but humans have so many _things_ that are so different and Castiel doesn’t know if it’s anything important or not. His stomach keeps turning and he wants to curl up, to get away from Alistair’s prodding, tugging touch. He wants to sink into the ocean, small-sea, or very-small-sea, anywhere and breathe water through his gills.

He wants Dean.

Castiel’s throat burns when he says his name. His voice is rough and his throat sore and asking for Dean only makes Lilith’s expression harden. She lifts the pendant again and swings it back and forth. Lilith’s smile is cold and cruel when she notices that he flinches from it. “Oh, so you did figure it out! You’re the smartest pet I’ve ever owned.”

Alistair moves across the room and out of sight. Castiel can hear the tapping sounds of someone typing at a computer. He comes back a few moments later and stops at Castiel’s hip. Castiel hisses when he touches the hole in his adipose fin and he tries squirming out of reach.

Panic is knotting through his chest tight and hard and his fins are rippling against the ropes and table. If he tries talking to Alistair or Lilith, they’ll make the pain come back. If he doesn’t have the kin-connection, he won’t know what they’re saying. He won’t know where Dean is, or if he’s okay, or if he’ll ever get to see him again.

“Do you have to train him out of that right now? I’d like to get an EEG while he’s using his telepathy. Same with a recipient. We could get Dean in here for that.” Alistair doesn’t look up while he’s talking and his fingers keep pulling at the hole in his adipose fin, tugging it flat so it doesn’t move.

Lilith’s face hardens again and she drops her hand, fingers touching lightly over Castiel’s clavicle. “If you want to study that, pick someone else. I don’t want them talking anymore.”

“Sam or Jess then? I just want to see what differences there are between his mind and our own. We should get an MRI too. Of him and the recipient.”

“You know I don’t care about this science stuff.” Lilith sighs and starts twirling her fingers in Castiel’s hair. “You’re only doing it because we need to have some kind of results for the lab when we get back. But no one else is going to get to study him or have him.” Her fingers tighten in his hair and she turns a cold look to Alistair. “He’s mine.”

 Castiel tries tilting his head out from under her touch. He can’t move far and Lilith just smiles and drags him back into place by his hair. It’s hard to breathe. It feels like something is lodged in his throat and his wrists are burning where the metal is digging into them.

“I want to train him out of this annoying habit of his as soon as I can. Do you have what you need to run those tests?”

“We don’t have an MRI, but we’ve got the components to put together an EEG.” Alistair touches the clinking table and picks up something that looks like a pen, but it ends in what even Castiel can recognize as a knife.

He starts squirming against his bonds again and Lilith pets his hair and coos soft noises as Alistair cuts out a section of his adipose fin. Castiel holds back a whimper and he digs his claws into his palm. It distracts from the burn in the soft webbing at his hip.

“I told you not to do anything that would scar him!” Lilith snaps, standing straight.

“It’ll heal. Just like that hole right there. Meg gave it to him during his first escape attempt and it’s less than half the size it was before. Winchester’s notes say that they heal fast.” Alistair stops cutting and it’s from the corner of his eye that Castiel sees him put the section of his fin into a clear, round container.

His hatred for Alistair doubles. This is the second time he’s taken a piece of Castiel without his permission and he _despises_ him for it. His scales, a piece of his fin, his blood. What else is he going to take from him? Castiel pulls at the bonds around his wrists and he doesn’t even notice the sting as they scrape over his skin.

He’s reaching for Alistair’s mind before he realizes it. Alistair staggers to one side, almost dropping the clear container. He puts a hand to his head and makes a strangled noise of surprise.

“He’s doing it again!”

Lilith huffs in annoyance and Castiel has a close up view of her pushing the indented circle on her pendant before the pain spreads from the back of his head straight down his spine and through his brain. It’s not as bad as before, but it still makes his vision swim and a pained cry to rip from his throat. The table rattles with the shaking of his body, but the world doesn’t go dark like it did before.

Castiel doesn’t really know what’s happening for several long minutes. He sees Lilith and Alistair talking and gesturing at each other, but he doesn’t hear their words over the thudding of his heart. Everything hurts and his fingers keep twitching. He doesn’t know how the pain keeps happening but he knows it happens when Lilith presses the pendant. He knows that it’s impossible to try and hold the kin-connection when agony is rattling through his muscles.

“Now are you going to try that again?” Lilith leans over him again, but the words are nothing to him and he stares at her blankly. She makes an annoyed noise and grips his chin, using the hold to shake his head slightly. “Pay attention, Castiel.  Are you going to try that again?”

“He probably doesn’t understand you.” Alistair’s voice is coming from farther away now. “If you actually want to communicate with him, he either needs to link with you or someone else.”

She huffs in frustration and leans away. “Then go get Sam or Jessica. Anyone but Dean. I’m not letting Castiel back in my head until he’s learned not to do that thing he does.”

Castiel watches Alistair leave the room through a door to the left. He doesn’t hear any voices or noises in the hallway beyond, but he still pulls at his restraints. He takes one deep breath before shouting toward the open door.

“Dean! _Dean!_ ”

He keeps calling, even when Lilith slams her hand onto the table next to his head. Castiel needs to know where Dean is. He needs to know that he’s safe and unhurt. He wants Dean here, with him, where he can make sure he’s okay. Where Dean can translate for him and give him comfort through the kin-connection. He’d be just fine if he had Dean.

“Stop it!” Lilith slaps him with the back of her hand and he stumbles to a momentary stop.  

His cheek stings and Castiel snarls at her, struggling harder against the table. “Dean! Where Dean? Want Dean!”

He doesn’t need the kin-connection to see that calling for Dean is only making Lilith more and more angry. Her hand closes around his throat and Castiel’s shouts choke off into nothing. He’s painfully reminded of the last time he wasn’t able to breathe, staring up at the fake bright-pearls and gasping for breath. Lilith presses hard, leaning her weight on his throat and Castiel can’t do anything to stop her. He can’t do anything but scrabble at her mind in an attempt to make her let go.

Lilith pulls back sharply and Castiel’s chest heaves as the air rushes into his lungs. He coughs and gasps and cries out hoarsely when she presses her pendant again. The pain splits his head and courses through his veins and she holds it until a new voice is shouting at her and there are hands at his shoulders, holding him flat to the table.

Castiel’s vision is blurry and he can’t focus. His skin is tingling in sharp bursts all over and his head is aching. He manages a quiet whimper when hands cup his face and stroke over the scales of his side fans.

“Castiel? It’s me. It’s Sam. Can you hear me?”

“Sam?” He manages around another cough. Images are becoming clear again and he recognizes the long hair and concerned eyes. “Sam.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me. Do the kin-connection. Come on. The kin-connection.”

Castiel shakes his head. No, if he does the kin-connection then Lilith is going to press her pendant again like she did before and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want the pain to happen again. It makes the world tilt and his body burn. Lilith leans into view next to Sam and her pendant swings forward. Castiel flinches away from it and she smiles. It’s cold and cruel and Castiel _hates_ it just as much as he hates her.

She reaches out and taps his forehead before tapping Sam’s temple. “It’s okay. Go ahead Castiel.”

Lilith is giving him permission. It must be okay if she’s telling him to do it. Castiel is still wary when he reaches for Sam’s mind. Sam is much less used to the kin-connection than Dean. He doesn’t know how to strengthen the connection when Castiel only gives it a weak, cursory touch. Sam’s thoughts are a tidal wave of calm and concern and it soothes over his mind.

_(It’s okay, it’s okay.)_ Sam gently runs a hand over Castiel’s side-fan, his thumb stroking along one of the spines. He turns his face into the comforting touch. It’s not Dean’s hands, but Sam’s scent is similar and reassuring and it’s something he needs right now.

_(Is Dean okay?)_

Sam smiles slightly and he pats Castiel gently on the arm. _(He’s fine. He was brought back to your room. Jess and I were there because we went to check on you guys but you were already gone to Lilith’s. Dean’s really, really unhappy with whatever they did and he’s really worried about you.)_

Castiel’s tail spasms against the ropes stretched over his scales. He pushes an image of Lilith’s necklace into the kin-connection and the memories of the blinding pain when she presses at it. Sam glances over his shoulder at Lilith and she smiles, lifting her pendant and swinging it back and forth again.

_(I think it’s a remote control.)_ Sam stands up straighter, hand squeezing over Castiel’s shoulder. “What did you do to him?”

“I’d love to tell you, but then you’ll just figure out how to stop it and that wouldn’t do us any good.” Lilith smiles sweetly and she pats Castiel’s tail, uncomfortably close to his sheath. He doesn’t think that she knows where she’s touching, but it makes his stomach twist and he tries to shift away from her hand.

“When did you even have the chance to do it?” Sam’s eyes narrow and he gets a nervous edge to his thoughts and his voice.

Castiel tries to remember when he was ever left alone and unconscious with Alistair or Gordon. But his memories don’t make sense. Everything is mixed up and everything hurts. He wants to go to sleep. He wants the rush of water over his skin and the warmth of Dean against him. Why is this happening? Why can’t Lilith just let him go? Is Mother-Sea punishing him? What could he have ever done to deserve this?

Sam keeps squeezing at his shoulder and brushing his thumb against the spine of his back-fan. _(When they broke Dean’s arm… you were brought back to the room by one of them. It’s when they chained you up in the tank. They must have done something. Does it… Can you tell where the pain originates?)_

He shakes his head, and the movement sends an ache flaring from the top of his spine out across his skull. _(The back of my head? It’s…)_ He has hazy memories of Dean’s fingers sliding up his neck and through his hair. _(When Dean touched there before, it kind of hurt. I never really noticed because there was always something else happening.)_ It’s hard to notice anything else when Dean kisses him.

_(Is Dean okay?)_ He turns his face toward Sam, pressing his cheek to his wrist. _(Did they hurt him?)_

Confusion slips through the kin-connection and Sam bends over again, pressing his hand to Castiel’s forehead. _(You asked that already. Don’t you remember?)_

Castiel’s brow furrows and he shakes his head. He doesn’t remember asking or Sam’s answer. When did he do that? When did Sam get here? Everything is fuzzy. He vaguely remembers him saying something about Dean. But thoughts keep slipping away and he’s having trouble thinking about anything anymore.

_(It didn’t work.)_

Sam frowns and keeps feeling Castiel’s face. He doesn’t understand why he keeps touching his forehead or feeling his neck. _(What didn’t?)_

_(I was going to overload the kin-connection. Knock out Alistair and Gordon. Make Lilith give you supplies and  a lifeboat and let us go.)_ Castiel looks down at Lilith and Alistair. They’re standing by the end of his tail and Alistair has a handful of thin things that look like… like jellyfish tentacles, or the spaghetti noodles he ate. They end in small round disks.

_(It didn’t work. Lilith used the pendant and I –)_ Castiel’s fins rustle against the rope. _(He took a piece of me again. Like he did with my scales.)_

Sam looks away. He reaches down and Castiel can feel his fingers at his hip and sliding over his adipose fins. He twitches at the touch. Sam’s hand is warm, but it’s not the same heat of Dean’s skin and it’s not cold like Lilith’s. Castiel hisses when he touches the place that still burns.

_(It’s bleeding a little. It’ll heal. You’ll be fine.)_ Sam moves and touches his wrist. _(You’re shredding your wrists. Stop pulling.)_

Castiel shakes his head again and twists his arms against the bonds. _(She was choking me. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t_ breathe _.)_

_(Castiel. Listen to me.)_ Sam leans over him, filling his sight almost all the way to the edges. Everything is Sam’s wide brown eyes and his concern fills his mind. _(I know you don’t like what’s happening and you want it to stop, but to do that you need to stop fighting it. The quicker you let them get done what they want to do, the sooner it’ll be over.)_

Panic flutters hard against his ribs and the end of his tail slaps against the table, making Lilith and Alistair look over. The circled-tentacles make a weird rustling noise when Alistair moves his hand. _(Why was she – And what are those? What does he want to do with them?)_

_(I don’t know.)_ Sam turns and exchanges questions and words that Castiel doesn’t pay attention to.

Images of the circles being stuck to Castiel’s forehead and Sam’s come through the kin-connection. Sam explains quickly that they’re to help see brain waves. There’s excitement curling under Sam’s thoughts and Castiel knows it’s because he’s curious too. Sam is a scientist, like Alistair, but not like Alistair. He wants to know how the kin-connection works just as much as the others do.

_(He wants to see inside my head?)_ Castiel’s side-fans flare and he tries pulling at his arms again but Sam presses against them.

_(Yes and no. We’re not going to see inside your head, we’re going to see what electricity your brain gives off when using the kin-connection. He’ll want us to break it so they can see what it’s like normally. For you and me. Then he’ll ask you to make the connection again and measure us both again.)_ Sam let’s up just slightly. _(It’s not like the x-ray that sees under your skin. We’re not looking inside your body. We’re just going to see what kind of things your body gives off during the use of the kin-connection.)_

_(No. I don’t want it.)_ Castiel starts pulling and Sam leans on his arms again. _(Please. I want to go back to small-sea. I won’t hurt their minds again. Please. Tell her I won’t do it again.)_

Sam’s expression falls and regret passes over his thoughts. _(They’re still going to do it. But it’ll be okay. They’ll let you go back to the tank after that.)_ There’s a hesitation to his thoughts and Sam starts petting his hair again. _(Lilith hurt you because you kept calling for Dean and it was pissing her off. She’s really not happy that you two went and hicky-ed each other up. She’s… if you two aren’t careful she’s going to keep Dean locked in his bunk and she won’t let him see you.)_

“No!” Horror spirals hard through his chest and into his stomach. Castiel starts thrashing against the ropes and the metal bonds. _(No! Don’t take Dean away!)_

Sam presses at his shoulders. _(She won’t if you’re careful. Please calm down, Castiel. You need to be calm for Alistair to do his test. The sooner he’s done, the sooner you can get back to the tank and to Dean, okay? Do you understand?)_

Castiel takes deep, gasping breaths and he pushes against his Sam’s hands. They can’t take Dean away. Dean is one of the very few things that make being trapped here even slightly tolerable. He still hates it, but it’s not as bad as it could be as long as he has Dean.

“What did you say to him?” Lilith pulls at Sam’s shoulder, jerking him back a step. “Make him stop!”

“I can’t! I’m trying and he’s not listening!” Sam shakes her hand off and Castiel stops listening.

He stretches out with his mind and searches. He finds the presence of so many minds. Too many. Dozens of them and he can’t tell, he can’t focus enough, to figure out which one is Dean’s. He doesn’t want to make the link with anyone new, he just needs to know that Dean is okay and still there and they won’t take him away.

It’s only a brief glimpse, but he sees Lilith’s hand move to her throat and he stills. He goes limp against the table and his breath comes in short, sharp bursts. He doesn’t want the pain again. Please, don’t give him the pain that burns through his muscles again.

Lilith pauses, lowering her hand as a pleased smile pulls at her lips.“Good. He’s learning.” She gestures over her shoulder. “Alistair, do your test. I’m tired and I want this over with.”

Sam’s dislike spikes through the kin-connection and he squeezes Castiel’s arm slightly. _(She’s using torture to train you. This is disgusting.)_

Castiel closes his eyes to the lights and he tries to shut off. He tries to find that calm that he had before. Sam keeps trying to press a soothing touch over his mind, but it’s not working. Castiel is too agitated, too nervous and worried and _scared_. He doesn’t know what will make Lilith use her pendant again, but he knows what _won’t_.

He doesn’t fight or move when Sam presses the circular disks to his forehead. And when he’s instructed to sever the kin-connection, he does it immediately. Castiel thinks about nothing, letting his thoughts drift loosely until the tap on his shoulder tells him to make the link again. Sam attempts to send calming thoughts as soon as they’re connected again and he presses them gently along the edges of Castiel’s mind. He coaxes Castiel to talk to him, asking him questions that Castiel answers in short words or images.

Lilith’s yawn cuts through one of Sam’s question and Castiel nearly flinches. “Okay, boys. That’s enough. Put away your toys. It’s been a long few days and I’m tired.”

Castiel agrees. He’s tired too. He doesn’t open his eyes until Sam removes the sticky circles. He hears someone moving above his head and he bites back a cry when Alistair grips his hair and jerks his head back. His other hand folds over Castiel’s chin, keeping his head tilted and forcing his jaw closed. The table rattles with how hard he’s struggling against the bonds holding his arms down.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam’s shouting gets cut off with a soft grunt and Castiel hears a crash.

The braided rope of the collar rubs at his skin and Castiel hates the familiar weight of it when Lilith clips it in place. As soon as Alistair lets go, he shakes his head and immediately regrets it. It makes the room spin and his head throbs.

Lilith makes soft ticking noises and starts petting his hair. “You shouldn’t do that, sweetie. You’ll just hurt yourself more.” She pats at his shoulder once before moving out of sight.

The table shakes slightly as someone unties the ropes and opens the metal cuffs binding his wrists and arms to its surface. His limbs feel heavy and he doesn’t want to move. It was a bad idea to keep his eyes closed before and now he wants to just keep them closed constantly. He’s on the verge of tipping into unconsciousness but he doesn’t want to sleep, not yet, not until he’s seen Dean and made sure with his own eyes that he’s fine.

Sam touches his arm gently. _(Castiel, are you okay? I’m going to take you back to the room now.)_

He nods and sends a soft pulse of confirmation through the kin-connection. He cracks open his eyes only for a moment before closing them again. Sam’s concern is vibrating through the kin-connection and it’s evident on his face. He’s worried about how Castiel is acting right now. He’s worried that Lilith did worse than the burning pain and the hand on his throat.

Sam smoothes his hand gently through Castiel’s hair once before lifting his arm over his shoulders. Castiel groans softly. The movement stretches the ache in his muscles and his head lolls against Sam’s cheek when he lifts him, one arm under the bend of his tail and the other pinning his fans to his back.

He takes a few steps and stops suddenly. It draws another groan of displeasure from Castiel but it cuts off when cold fingers close around the arm folded over his stomach. He opens his eyes again and a chill creeps over his skin at how close Lilith is standing.

She lifts his arm until he can see the bleeding rings of red around his wrist. Lilith is frowning and she shakes his arm again. “Don’t do this again. If these scar, I will be very unhappy.”

“You’re worried about a few scratches, but you’ll let Alistair cut off an actual piece of him.” Sam’s voice is thick with the same anger that makes the kin-connection tremble. “You’ve got a fucked up sense of ownership there.”

She ignores him completely and shakes Castiel’s arm again. “Take care of these before you go. And Castiel –” Lilith leans in close and the nauseating scent that clings to her hair and clothes makes him want to sneeze. “ – You are not allowed to set up your little link with anyone else unless I give you permission. That includes Dean. Understand?” To emphasize her point, she puts her hand to the pendant.

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple and his fans rustle and narrow, flattening as he ducks his head. He doesn’t want the pain again. But he doesn’t want to be kept from Dean like that. She can’t know when he uses it. She won’t be able to monitor him at all times. He nods, keeping his adverted.

Sam’s thoughts fill with curse words and his movements are stiff and angry. He has to put Castiel back down on the table, and he sits with his tail hanging to the floor. Alistair brings over rolls of the white bandages and a small bottle. Castiel watches absently as he hands them to Sam and walks away again. Sam pours a clear liquid over his wrists and the scratches on his upper arms. It stings, making him hiss and wince. His fans flare before flattening.

Apologies filter through the kin-connection as Sam wraps the bandages around the marks made by the metal bonds. The press of the cloth hurts and Castiel wants to pull his hands away, but Sam’s fingers are tight where they hold him.

When Sam picks him up again, Lilith leads the way out of the room. Castiel frowns, looking around. The hallway looks very familiar. He recognizes the elevator doors and the other few doors lining the walls. He’s seen the layout before and he realizes it’s the same hall that small-sea is off of.

There are guards waiting outside one of the doors and they make room for Lilith to press her square white card to the grey square next to the door. The door beeps and she leads the way inside. Dean stops his quick back and forth crossing from small-sea to the opposite ledge and back. Jess gets up from her chair in front of the computer and grabs his arm to keep him from moving forward. Small-sea is full again and very-small-sea is gone.

Jess has to pull at Dean’s arm again as he steps toward them. “Sammy, Cas, you guys okay?”

Lilith steps between them and presses her hand to Dean’s chest. “You stay right where you are. Sam, put Castiel in the tank.” She holds her other hand out to Jess. “Give me the key.”

Jess’s opens and closes her mouth a few times, looking from Lilith to Dean. “I… I don’t have the key anymore.”

She turns her hand to Dean. “Hand it over, Winchester.”

Dean turns his glare on her. “What for?”

“I’m confining him to the tank. Castiel isn’t allowed to move about outside of it anymore.”

Anger bursts bright through the kin-connection with Sam and Castiel winces, ducking his head again and leaning his temple against Sam’s shoulder. Dean actually growls and his whole body gets tight. “No. You can’t do that to him.”

“I can do what I want with him. He belongs to me.” She curls her fingers a few times. “Give me the key, Dean.” Her other hand moves up in front of her and out of sight. Castiel tenses, anxiety burning hot through his veins.

_(Tell Dean to give her the key. He doesn’t know about the remote control yet and she might use it just to make him listen.)_ Sam’s thoughts are sour and unhappy and when Castiel tilts his head back to see his expression, his face is hard and dark.

He nods and looks back. “Dean –”

Lilith turns around at the same time that Jess and Dean look up at him. Her eyebrows are raised, but she’s not glaring at Castiel like she did when he attempted the kin-connection previously. Dean expression changes from anger to uncertainty and Castiel licks his lips before looking away. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment and whatever else might show on Dean’s face when he tells him.

“Dean. Give key. Please.”

He hears a muffled noises of surprise from Jess, but there’s nothing from Dean and he’s tempted to look, just to see. He wants to reach out and twists his fingers in Dean’s shirt, press his face to his neck, and wrap himself around him. He wants to burrow under Dean’s clothing and soak in his heat and seek solace in his mind like he does with the sea.

All these wants and he can’t have any of them. Not with Lilith and her pendant and the pain that makes his head not work properly. He repeats his plea until he hears Dean make a disgusted noise and when he looks up, Dean is pulling the key from his pocket and dropping it into Lilith’s palm.

Dean crosses his arms tightly over his chest and leans heavily against the ledge. He glares at everything that isn’t Castiel as Sam carries him to the platform. Jess helps him lift and push Castiel over the edge of the glass-wall. He tries to help by pulling himself up too, but his arms feel too weak and his tail just doesn’t seem to be working right.

He breathes the water deep, letting it fill his lungs as he sinks to the bottom of small-sea. The bars boom shut above the water and Lilith steps up onto the platform to lock them. Dean stops her from leaving the room when she goes to leave, putting himself between her and the door.

Castiel settles on his stomach, arms folded under his chin. Dean and Lilith are exchanging sharp words and Dean keeps gesturing at the small-sea and Castiel. He watches quietly for several minutes. With each passing moment, the urge to touch Dean’s mind grows.

He chews lightly at his bottom lip and looks at Lilith. She’s not looking at him and there are no machines in this room that could tell her that he’s using the kin-connection. He looks between them again and then to Sam and Jess standing at the corner of small-sea and watching the interaction between Dean and Lilith.

He doesn’t need Sam’s translations to know that Dean is trying to find out what happened in her room earlier and Castiel wishes he could tell Dean. He wants to hear Dean’s voice in his head and feel his emotions playing over his own. Castiel _needs_ that connection with him again.

A beat of warning sounds through his link with Sam and he ignores it. Lilith has no way of knowing if he’s using the kin-connection with Dean. Castiel still braces himself for the pain, just in case, as he stretches his touch to Dean’s mind. It’s so much easier to make the contact when he can see where he is. Dean doesn’t have much of a reaction but his eyes slide from Lilith to him.

Castiel gets a few brief flashes of confusion, concern and anxiety before everything gives way to relief. He closes his eyes and fully accepts the peaceful – if confused – waves that wash through the kin-connection. A weight in his chest lifts and Castiel sighs softly as his own nervousness uncoils slowly.

Another pulse of warning flares bright at the edge of his mind where he’s still connected with Sam. Castiel looks up again and he thinks he can actually feel his heart skitter-stop in his chest at Lilith’s burning glare. Her fingers are already closing over the pendant and he doesn’t even get the chance to object before the same hurt as before sears through his head and forces a ragged cry from his throat.

The kin-connection links are torn from him again and Castiel is left at a lonely loss as his body sings with pain. 

 


	17. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He traces his finger up along the blue, following the edge of the green and tracing the curve and around to where its starts to bend up toward the top. He stops at the corner. _(We’re right here. After we caught you we stopped in a port for a few days to refuel and fill up on supplies. Once we reach here –)_ He slips his finger a little higher up the corner. _(- we’re going to turn this way.)_ His finger drags to the left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: morrissarty, kenjiiatosh, and epiphany-wisps.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

The knocking noise is annoying. Castiel wants it to stop. His head hurts and it keeps pounding in time with his heart and the knocking. He just wants to sleep. He wants to stay curled up and asleep because nothing hurts when he’s sleeping. The ache of his muscles doesn’t bother him then, and the heavy weight spread throughout his chest doesn’t hurt in an entirely different way.

The knocking doesn’t stop and it takes too long for Castiel to realize that it could be Lilith tapping at the glass. If he doesn’t respond to her, she might press her pendant and make the pain come back. The thought sends fear rippling under his skin and Castiel fights to ignore the twinges of his muscles as he uncurls and pushes himself up.

He hasn’t looked around since he made the kin-connection with Dean only to have Lilith rip it away from him again. She’d held her pendant for so long that Castiel thinks he might have blacked out again. He’s not sure. He just remembers the pain and when he could think clearly again he found that he was curled onto himself, the end of his tail folded over his head and his adipose fans spread to cover his shoulders.

Castiel sinks back to the floor with a mixture of relief and annoyance when he sees it’s only Sam. He’s crouched near the front of small-sea and the head-set is pinning his hair in places. Jess is kneeling next to him and neither Lilith or Dean are anywhere in sight. His neck protests the movement when he looks around, checking all corners of the room.

The speakers crackle and buzz before  Sam’s voice muffles through the water. “Are you okay?”

He stretches and winces, leaning heavily against the glass-wall while curling his tail up under him. The mirror next to him is distracting. Castiel turns his head until he can’t see himself in his peripheral vision. He doesn’t want to see what he looks like right now, especially not with the collar that’s still rubbing at his neck.

“Castiel?” Sam waves his hand, maybe to get his attention, maybe for some other reason that is purely human that he doesn’t know about.

Castiel shakes his head and it makes his vision blur. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and waits until the spinning feeling stops. When he looks up again, Sam and Jess both look concerned. Dean hasn’t come back in what little time he wasn’t looking and worry is chewing at his insides in painful little bursts.

He mouths Dean’s name at them, exaggerating the shape of the letters. Sam’s lips thin out and Jess looks away. Castiel’s fans flex and his anxiety spirals. What happened to Dean while he wasn’t able to pay attention? Where is he? He drops his hands to his lap and presses his claws into his scales. His eyes keep sliding to Dean’s empty bed.

Sam knocks again and Castiel winces as the noise spikes through his head. They must notice because when he looks back, both Sam and Jess look apologetic. The crackle of the speakers isn’t as irritating, but it still hurts. “Sorry.” Sam shrugs in apology and taps at his temple.

Castiel frowns and shakes his head. He really doesn’t want the pain again. It’s hard to focus afterward and he doesn’t like being like that. He needs Lilith’s permission before he’ll do anything like that.

“Lilith gave permission. It’s okay.” Sam keeps tapping at his forehead and nodding. “It’s okay.”

He looks away, playing with the adipose fins along the right side of his tail. Castiel doesn’t want to look at his left hip. He doesn’t want to see what it looks like after Alistair cut a piece of it away. It stings slightly every time they ripple and he has to focus on keeping it still. He chews at his bottom lip lightly. Sam wouldn’t lie to him about something like this, not if it meant that he could end up hurt.

Castiel glances back. Sam and Jess both look so hopeful and honest. It takes more focus than usual to reach out and find Sam’s consciousness. When he makes the connection, the rush of Sam’s thoughts and emotions send little sparks of pain through his head. He puts walls between them, blocking everything but what they need to communicate.

Sam’s concern rings his words. _(How are you feeling?)_

 _(Sore.)_ Castiel watches absently as Sam pats Jess’s knee and she smiles slightly before taking out her phone and poking at it.

 _(That’s understandable. Meg showed up for a little bit – she just left before I tried waking you actually. I don’t know how she’s getting her information, but she said that they put a demobilizer at the base of your skull.)_ Sam sits, crossing his legs in front of him.

Castiel touches the back of his head, searching for a lump or any sign of something being under his skin. There’s a little tingle when he presses over where Dean often drags his fingers when he’s running his hand through Castiel’s hair.

_(It’s small. About the size of the tracking chip. Whenever Lilith presses the remote control, it pulses out electricity. It’s not a strong enough to kill you, but lower voltages hurt – a lot.)_

_(What is ‘electricity’?)_

Sam runs his hand through his hair, pushing the headset off and setting it aside. _(It’s like… lightning.)_

Castiel can’t stop touching the back of his head. _(Can we get it out? Like we did with the tracker? Can Pamela get it out?)_

_(Yes, but it’ll be more dangerous because of its location. She’ll need more than just the clawed needle to get it out.)_

Images of machines Castiel doesn’t recognize slide their way through the kin-connection. He shoves them away. He has not patience to try and figure out all the many things that humans have. All Castiel needs to know is that it can be taken out, he doesn’t care even slightly about _how_.

 _(The problem with that though, is we would need to get you to the infirmary. Lilith has the key for the tank now and we’re definitely not allowed to take you around the ship anymore. One second –)_ Sam leans over to Jess, when she touches his arm and holds her phone out to him. He looks at it, brow furrowing and displeasure twitching around the walls in the kin-connection.

Castiel brushes his curiosity against Sam’s thoughts. He’s holding back on asking about Dean. He wants to ask where Dean is and what happened while he wasn’t able to focus or pay attention. When Sam looks up again, there something in his expression that Castiel doesn’t understand. He drops the walls just enough to feel more of Sam’s emotions. There’s anger and resignation flickering through.

 _(What’s wrong?)_ The anxiety that had abated for the last few minutes starts pulsing hard in his chest again.

Sam looks down at his hands and then to Jess. _(We texted Dean to say that you were awake again and to ask when he was coming back.)_

 _(What happened after I –)_ Castiel gestures vaguely before dropping his hand to his side again. He starts rolling and folding his adipose fin, a nervous habit.

He shrugs and says a few things to Jess before she returns her focus to her phone again. Memories start pushing through their link and Castiel closes his eyes to better concentrate on the images. Sam shows him the memory of Dean and Lilith talking. Dean keeps gesturing towards small-sea, asking in loud, angry words that Castiel can’t hear about what Lilith did. He’s asking about the bandages on Castiel’s arms and the blood on his hip. He’s demanding to know what Lilith did to make Castiel scream and call for him like Castiel had.

Lilith never answers, but Castiel sees the moment that he makes the kin-connection with Dean. He has his own memories of Lilith turning to face small-sea as her hand goes to her pendant. Castiel knows this part of the memory. He saw it all happening.

The memory’s focus shifts and Castiel sees himself. He sees the dawning fear on his face and how he convulses when Lilith presses the pendant. There’s no memory of sound, but Castiel knows he was screaming. His throat is still sore from it.

Everything moves back to Lilith and Dean and Castiel is so surprised he nearly loses his grasp on the memories. Dean has Lilith turned around and pressed up against the glass-wall. He’s holding her wrist pinned to the glass and the pendant is still clutched tightly in her hand. Dean is shouting and he pulls Lilith forward only to slam her back into the glass.

For the first time since he met her, Castiel actually sees _fear_ on Lilith’s face as Dean’s hand presses over her collarbone. It’s just shy of pushing against her throat – like how she did it to Castiel. Dean leans in closely and if Castiel was in Lilith’s place, he might have been very scared. Dean’s face is hard and dark and Castiel has never seen him so angry.

Dean’s hand slides up and it can’t be very comfortable for Lilith. The blue-white cast on his arm must be digging into her throat painfully and Castiel is vindictively proud of Dean for causing her the pain that he can’t. Dean makes Lilith’s head hit the glass again and Jess and Sam start objecting when Dean does something with his hands that lifts Lilith until her feet are barely touching the ground.

That’s when she lets go of the pendant.

He lets her feet touch the ground again and his hand slips down her throat again. Dean asks why Lilith just hurt Castiel. She answers. He asks why Lilith is stopping Castiel from making the kin-connection. She answers and Dean’s whole body tenses. Dean reminds Lilith of how necessary the kin-connection is – that without it Castiel could lose his mind.

It’s only a moment later when the door swings open and the guards come in. They drag Dean off of Lilith and she nearly falls over, gasping with her hand to her chest. The fear melts from her face, replaced with a kind of rage he’s never seen her wear before. Lilith makes sharp movements with her hand and tells the guards to take him out of the room. Dean stills, staring at her with wide eyes before he starts struggling to throw the guards off.

He stops fighting when one of them presses a gun to his side. Castiel’s stomach clenches and his fingers curl in his lap. He doesn’t know if it was a dart-gun or the kind of gun that uses bullets. The guards lead Dean from the room and Lilith turns to Sam and glances at small-sea. When the memory shifts for a moment, Sam must look too. Castiel sees himself trembling and curled where he lays in small-sea.

The memory fades out with Lilith telling Sam that when Castiel is okay again he can make the kin-connection with Sam and only Sam. When their link goes quiet again, Castiel opens his eyes and stares down at the pale lines of his fingers over his scales. All the different things that could have happened to Dean in the time that he was incapable of proper thinking flash through his mind and each one makes his lungs feel tighter and tighter. It’s getting hard to breathe.

_(He’s okay.)_

Castiel looks up sharply, sitting up straighter. _(Where is he?)_

Sam is looking at Jess’s phone again. _(In his bunk. Lilith’s confined him there. He says he’s handcuffed to his bed.)_ Images of metal bracelets connected with a chain flit under his words. _(The chain is long enough for him to walk around the room a bit, but he can’t leave. Well, he could leave. He could pick the lock on them no problem. But he’s got guards too, apparently.)_

He slumps against the wall again, fins rippling unhappily. _(We’re not allowed to see each other, are we?)_

Resignation circles around Sam’s thoughts and he shakes his head before running his hand through his hair again. _(Not at the moment, no. We’re going to try and talk to Lilith, see if we can’t convince her to at least chain him to his bed in here.)_

Jess leaves her phone with Sam and gets up. Castiel watches her go to the door and open it. She lets Bobby in. He’s carrying a bucket. Castiel should be hungry, but he’s not. The thought of eating actually makes his stomach turn and he doesn’t move or watch as Bobby steps up onto the platform and dumps the contents into small-sea.

The brightly coloured fish dart around and he looks away. Sam’s curiosity trickles through the kin-connection and Castiel shakes his head. _(I’m not hungry.)_

_(But you haven’t eaten since –)_

_(I know when I last ate. Midday.)_

_(It’s been half a day, Castiel. I brought you back here a few hours ago and it’s after midnight now.)_ Sam stands up and stretches. _(You should have something to eat, to keep your strength up. Jess and I are staying here for now. Dean wants us to stay here with you so you won’t be alone, but we’d already decided that the moment we found out he’s not allowed to come back here.)_

Castiel doesn’t want to talk about that. He doesn’t even want to think about not being able to see Dean anymore. He filters Sam’s thoughts out of his mind, keeping nothing but the consciousness of his mind. He pushes away from the wall and every beat of his tail is sluggish. His body feels heavy and any little movement hurts. It takes much too long for him to catch one of the fish, and he settles lazily to the floor with it struggling in his grip. Castiel stares down at it before letting go and watching it join the small school flitting above his head.

Sam and Jess start to change their clothes and Castiel turns away. They haven’t asked him not to look like Dean usually did, but he doesn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. Sam locks the door and dims the lights to the point that Castiel’s glow returns. It’s a slight comfort, but Castiel wants more than just his natural glow to remind him of home.

He wants to see Dean. He shouldn’t want that as much as he does, but he can’t help it. This should be a good thing. Being separated from Dean now will make it easier to leave if he ever manages to escape. But how will he ever manage to get out when Lilith can debilitate him so easily with the simple press of a pendant? If they do get him free, will he be returning to the colony with this _thing_ under his skin? What if it’s like another tracking chip? What if, while he was unconscious, they put another one of those somewhere in his body?

That thought sends his heart rate into double time and anxiety flutters violently in his chest. Castiel presses his hand to his sternum, breathing deep to try and calm himself. He lowers the walls between him and Sam and feeds his fear into the kin-connection.

Sam looks up from folding back the covers on the bed next to the platform. Neither he, nor Jess, are touching Dean’s bed and Castiel is oddly pleased by that. The only people who should get to sleep in Dean’s bed is him and Dean – even if Sam and Jess are Dean’s family.

_(What’s wrong, Cas?)_

Castiel almost flinches at the nickname. Sam rarely calls him that. It’s Dean’s name for him and it only serves to make him miss Dean more. He shakes off the feeling.

 _(Did they give me another tracking tag?)_ Castiel turns and flares his back-fans to bare his back. _(They put that… that shock-tag under my skin while I was out, and they had me today when I was unconscious too. Did Meg say if they put one under my skins or scales again?)_

Jess crawls onto the bed and stretches out under the covers against the wall. Sam sits on the edge of the bed and rubs a hand through his hair again. _(We don’t know. To be sure, we’d have to do another x-ray to see for sure.)_

Castiel’s fins ripple again at the memory of the x-ray. _(But how could we – I’m stuck in here.)_

 _(We’ve got the mobile one in the other room. We’ll try and bring it in here without anyone noticing. It’ll be hard to take the images and develop them after that. But it’s the best way we have to see if anything is in you that shouldn’t be.)_ Sam swings his legs up onto the bed and lays down. _(Do you mind if we both sleep? I can stay up and talk with you if you want.)_

He shakes his head and half-swims, half-drags himself into the back corner closest to Dean’s bed. _(I’m tired.)_

Sam pulls the blanket up to his shoulders and rolls onto his side, facing small-sea. Castiel curls up again, tucking the end of his tail under his neck and hugging his chest. _(I don’t doubt that. And if you need anything at all, wake me.)_

He reaches to the floor and comes up again with the phone as he settles against under the bed again. The light from it when it opens it makes his face look ghostly and Jess peers over his shoulders. _(Dean says he’s too pissed to sleep. He’s already picked the cuffs but he doesn’t know how to get around the guards and back up here without getting caught. He says to get some sleep and he’ll raise hell in the morning until Lilith talks to him again.)_

The light of the phone goes out before Castiel  lifts his head. _(Could you send Dean a message?)_

It flicks back on and Sam nods. _(Sure. What do you want to say?)_

 _(Tell him to sleep. He’ll think better when he’s well rested. And that I… Tell him ‘good night’.)_ Castiel drags the end of his tail against his spine. _(Please.)_

Sam is silent for a few moments and Castiel can make out the movement of his hands as he puts the message into the phone. He doesn’t close the phone and the light doesn’t blink out. _(He says he’ll try and then he kind of rants about how pissed he is at Lilith for what she did. I might have told him that you said she was choked you.)_ He pauses and squints at the phone. _(He wants us to text him in the morning when you wake up.)_

Amusement trickles around his words. _(He’s really concerned about you, huh?)_

 _(If you’re going to make insinuations about Dean’s feelings for me again, please don’t.)_ Castiel closes his eyes and places the sleep barriers between his mind and Sam’s.

Neither of them say anything more and Castiel tries to empty his mind. He tries not to think about what else might be under his skin, or how he might not get to see Dean again. He tries not to think about Lilith’s plans and what other training she has in store for him. It’s hard not to think about any of that when it’s the only thing that’s in his head.

His nose stings with the approach of tears and Castiel hates that. He’s a warrior. He’s cried more times here than he has since he was a hatchling. As a soldier he should have better control over himself. He’s been taught to ignore his emotions to better focus on fighting. But nothing he’s ever been trained for has prepared him for the situation he finds himself in now.

Michael showed him how to wield a sword, but he taught Castiel what to do when he has nothing that he can use to protect himself. Lucifer trained him in tactics until Castiel’s strategic abilities exceeded his own, but he never taught him what to do when he’s trapped in a place he barely understands, with no hope of getting out.

Anna taught him love and kindness where their other siblings would not. But she never showed him what to do when he finds himself falling for someone he can never stay with. She never warned him about how much it hurts, how terrifying it is to love.

Nothing he’s learned from Gabriel or Balthazar – fun and friendship and family – none of that can be extrapolated into something useable here. Nothing in his life has ever prepared him for this and Castiel doesn’t know what to _do_. He knows what he _shouldn’t_  do. He shouldn’t get any closer to Dean. He should never have let himself get this close in the first place.

Castiel’s head hurts with all these thoughts and it was already sore to start with.

He twists to look at the clock. To his knowledge, most everyone on the boat should be sleeping. Castiel could, theoretically, find Dean’s mind more easily if he searched. If Dean’s room is on the floor below, and the floor below is where everyone goes to sleep, and if everyone else on that floor should be sleeping, and if Dean is still awake… Dean would be the only conscious mind.

Thinking of talking to Dean again sends a weak exhilaration crawling under his skin. He misses Dean’s thoughts and his emotions and the only thing he wants more than feeling that again is his freedom.

But… He’s terrified.

Lilith must know that he can reach out and touch anyone’s mind as long as they are within a certain distance. If she knows that, than how can she make sure that he isn’t trying to search out Dean’s mind when she can’t see him or Dean. Does she have something in place to monitor his brain or Dean’s when they don’t know it?

What if he reaches for Dean now and the pain happens again? Does this thing that they put under his skin have some way of seeing the things his brain gives off when he uses the kin-connection? He doesn’t know. How can he? Humans and all their _things_ that can do so many different _things_.

It’s not fair.

How can he figure out what to do when there’s so much he doesn’t know?

x

_(You didn’t eat anything.)_

Castiel doesn’t turn over to look at Sam. He remains on his back, hands resting folded over his stomach. It’s only distantly that he feels the hunger curling in belly. He continues staring up at the fish swimming above him. It’s obvious that he didn’t eat any of the fish. There are no bones for him to get rid of, and the number of fish hasn’t changed.

_(You should eat.)_

_(I’m not hungry.)_ Castiel ‘s not lying. He can feel the hunger, but he doesn’t care about it. He can easily ignore it.

Sam’s skepticism bubbles under his thoughts and Castiel disregards it just as easily he does the hunger. The rumble of the boat’s engines is a subtle vibration against his back and in the water. It started up shortly before Sam woke. It’s actually what woke him in the first place. Sam says that the engines have started because now that Lilith is back on board, they’re beginning the journey back to their home again.

It means that Castiel is getting farther and farther from home. That is harder to ignore, and Castiel especially hates it. He has no idea what the world looks like beyond the boat and the deep. He should ask Sam where the light-beds were and where they’re going and where they are. These are things he wants to know, but he doesn’t want to move to see anything if he does ask.

He can see Sam and Jess moving around out of the corner of his eye, but again, nothing interests him. Castiel just watches the fish.

Sam presses firmly at his mind, an unyielding tone to it. _(Dean wants to talk to you.)_ Castiel turns his head and Sam is holding the phone up. It’s open and he wiggles it.  _(It’s on speaker. If you get your – uh – ‘ear’ above the water, you’ll be able to hear him.)_

_(Side-fan. We call them side-fans.)_

Castiel sits up, rolling away from the floor to slip toward the surface close to the platform. He grips the bars and holds himself in place as he tips one side-fan out of the water. Sam steps up onto the platform and holds the phone out over the bars where Castiel  is.

“Go ahead, Dean. He should be able to hear you now.”

Dean’s voice sounds different when he speaks. It sounds distant and it crackles around the edges, wrose than the speakers does. “Cas, you listening?”

Sam translates, but Castiel doesn’t completely need it. He understands those words at least. He turns his head until his mouth is out of the water. “Yes, Dean. Good morning.” He quickly tilts his head until his side-fan was out again.

“Yeah, yeah. Good morning to you too. Sam says you’re not eating. Don’t start that again. Don’t start getting depressed and all that hopeless bullshit. We’ll figure this shit out like we have everything else.” Dean’s voice is stern and hard and Castiel wishes he could feel his emotions properly. Getting Dean’s meanings second hand through Sam leaves an odd ache in his chest. “Y’got me, Cas? Eat those damn fish. All of them. Sam will tell me if you don’t.”

Castiel huffs and his fans flex miserably. “Not hungry.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. Unless you’re sick, you’re hungry. Eat those fish and I’ll give you a nice surprise when I get back up there”.

Sam makes a small strangled noise. “Dude, I’m right here. We can all hear you.”

“Calm your tits, Sam. Cas won’t let me go any further than kisses.”

“Again, things I don’t need to hear. And those hickeys you left on him are a bit more than just ‘kisses’. For the record, that pissed Lilith off pretty badly.” Sam switches the phone to his other arm. “She’s not stupid, you know. I’m willing to bet good money that she’s more possessive than you are and she doesn’t like you putting your marks all over what she considers her property. ”

Castiel hisses and he whips his tail unhappily. The fish scatter to the other side of small-sea.  “No!”

Dean’s laugh echoes oddly through the phone and something tight in Castiel’s chest loosens just a little. He’s not sure what he said to make Dean laugh, but it’s nice to listen to even if it doesn’t sound right.

“So, you’re going to eat, right?”

He frowns up at the phone and then looks away, slipping under the water to stare at the fish. Castiel still doesn’t want to eat. He shakes his head and pushes away from the bars, sinking a little before twisting away from that side of small-sea. Sam’s surprise echoes through the kin-connection and Castiel knows he’s telling Dean that he’s settled in the corner he didn’t actually sleep in during the night. He sits with his back pressed into the corner, hugging the fold of his tail to his chest.

_(Dean wants to know why you don’t want to talk anymore.)_

Castiel rests his chin on the fold of his tail and . _(I’m tired.)_

_(Did you not sleep well?)_

_(I didn’t sleep.)_

Sam has the phone to his ear now. _(Why not?)_

 _(I tried. I couldn’t.)_ He shrugs and presses his cheek to his scales, staring absently at Dean’s empty bed.

Concern flickers along the edges of Sam’s mind, slipping into the kin-connection before Sam draws back from it. Castiel hears the thudding sound of footsteps and he glances up to see Sam pacing, talking into the phone. He says nothing more to Castiel about Dean until he suddenly stops. Both he and Jess look at the door, their shoulders set in stiff lines.

Sam closes the phone and shoves it in one of his pockets. _(Dean says he’ll call back later and you – and I’m quoting here – you “sure as hell have better eaten by then”.)_

Castiel shakes his head, but he’s watching the door. It opens and Lilith walks in with Alistair right behind her. Lilith gestures at Jess and although Jess’s lips press together in a thin line, she still grabs one of the chairs and drags it to in front of small-sea. Lilith sits and arranges her short dress over her knees as she crosses them. Alistair goes to the platform and Castiel watches him carefully as he unlocks the bars.

Lilith speaks to Sam and the way his hands curl into fists at his sides sends a worried tingle skittering under his scales. Sam looks towards Castiel. _(She wants you to go to Alistair. He wants to take some samples.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple violently and his first reaction is to bare his teeth and hiss. Lilith toys with the pendant, raising one eyebrow at him. It’s reluctantly and hesitantly that he unfolds from the corner. Castiel’s tail thumps against the floor once before he rises up from it. He circles small sea instead of going straight to where Alistair is waiting.

_(What does he want to do?)_

Sam repeats the question. Alistair answers and Sam translates into images. There’s a long white stick with a bulbed end that Alistair puts in Castiel’s mouth, touching it to the inside of his cheeks and his tongue. Another image follows of Alistair taking strands of Castiel’s hair, and another of him examining Castiel’s claws.

He doesn’t like any of those. But he doesn’t have much of a choice unless he wants Lilith to make the pain come back. Castiel breaks the water closer to the bars than to the wall. He takes a few minutes to void his lungs of water before he slides closer. Alistair has the bulbed white stick in one hand and a clear tube in the other. His hands are blue.

_(He’s wearing gloves, and that’s just a swab, Castiel. It’s not going to hurt or anything. He just wants a saliva sample.)_

His blood, his scales, his fins. Now his saliva and his hair. How much else can they take from him before they’re satisfied? Castiel growls low in his throat before licking his lips and opening his mouth. His fingers tighten over the edge of the glass-wall when Alistair puts the bulbed end of the swab in his mouth and rubs it against the inside of his cheek.

The swab goes inside the tube when Alistair is done. He puts it in one of his pockets and pulls something from a different pocket. He holds a clear square in one hand and when Castiel passes the image to Sam, he’s told that it’s a kind of bag – almost like the plastic bag that he saw Alistair carrying in Lilith’s office what feels like an age ago.

Castiel has to tilt his head forward and he fights the urge to wince as Alistair pulls several strands of hair out and places them in the clear square bag before sealing it. He glares at Alistair and rubs the spot on his head where they were taken from. The smug smirk that Castiel hates is permanently fixed on Alistair’s face, but Castiel is vindicated by the still healing cuts on his lip from when Dean punched him, and the strip of white over his nose from when Castiel broke it.

That feels like a lifetime ago and if he stopped to think about how much has happened since then, about how much he has changed, Castiel doesn’t even really know how he would react. He tries not to think about it as Alistair lifts his hand and straightens his fingers. The blue material covering his hands feels weirdly smooth as he maneuvers Castiel’s hand to look at his claws from all angles.

“Make sure you get them all.” Lilith’s voice sounds bored, but it makes Castiel flinch and he twists to look over his shoulder at her. Sam translates, but Castiel doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

His arm is jerked forward as Alistair takes a step back and there is a pressure at his fingertip. Castiel looks back quickly. His fans flare in surprise to see Alistair holding a metal tool. There’s a flat curved piece that sticks up at one end. It has a slit in it that Alistair fits over the end of Castiel’s claw on the index finger of his right hand. He slides it down over the claw until Castiel can feel the metal pressed to his skin. It curves around the top of his finger almost perfectly.

There are two long, thin rods that connect to the flat piece. Alistair’s fingers are curled around one rod and his thumb over the other. When he squeezes the rods together, another flat piece slides and Castiel feels a slight pressure against the inside of his claw before the flat piece slices through it.

Castiel snarls and pushes at the wall with his other hand. His tail smacks the glass loudly as he forces himself back and away. Alistair lets go immediately but his smile only gets wider. Castiel retreats to where the bars begin and he examines his hand closely. His claw has been shorted and rounded and now it looks more like Dean’s nails.

“Castiel.”

He twitches and looks up at Lilith. She’s moved to the edge of the platform and she’s purposefully rolling the pendant between her fingers. Castiel’s fans flare again. He’s entirely too unhappy to do it and his upper lip curls back before he glares at her. Lilith fits her thumb over the center of the pendant and Castiel’s fans flatten. He dips his head and slides forward again.

When he puts his hand over the edge of the glass-wall again, Alistair holds his fingers one at a time as he uses the claw-cutter to shorter all his claws. While he starts working on his other hand, Castiel examines his right hand. His fingertips feel weird and he drags his thumb over the rounded edges of his fingers. He doesn’t like how wrong it feels.

Castiel has broken his claws before. He knows they’ll grow back. But it will take a long time and he’s left without one of the few defenses he has until then. It’ll take more than a rotation. He hopes that he’s not going to be here long enough for that. But he had been hoping to be free days ago – and he was for a brief moment – and that hope proved useless.

The moment Alistair lets go, Castiel pulls away and he dives. He doesn’t care if Alistair has more things he wants to do or take for him, Castiel won’t do it. His lungs fill as his gills ripple and he curls in the corner by Dean’s bed again. He drags his cut claws over his scales and rubs at them with his thumbs and fingertips. Everything feels weird and he doesn’t like it almost as much as he doesn’t like everything else they’ve taken from him.

He hears the bars shut and he looks up to watch Alistair lock them again. Lilith is talking with Jess and Sam and she keeps frowning and shaking her head. Castiel watches them closely and he pulls at Sam’s mind to find out what they’re talking about.

_(We’re trying to convince her to let Dean come back.)_

Castiel sits forward, fins rustling and shifting. Hope twists behind his sternum and he looks between them, trying not to look as excited as he feels. He fidgets with his adipose fins, rolling and pinching and folding and hoping that Lilith will say ‘yes’.

Lilith looks at him and her frown is deep and it sends that small hope dropping into his stomach. She says something to Sam and his shoulders droop slightly. _(She wants to know why you’re not eating, or why you didn’t sleep.)_

Castiel pulls his tail to his chest and rests his chin on the fold of it. _(I’m not hungry and I just… I couldn’t sleep. I tried but it didn’t happen.)_

Sam shares his answer and Lilith shakes her head. Her arms are crossed, but she keeps playing with the pendant with one hand. It makes Castiel nervous and he can’t press his claws into his tail like he’s used to and wants to.

_(She’s asking if it’s because Dean isn’t here.)_

Castiel shrugs. He doesn’t know if it’s because Dean isn’t here, or if it’s because of everything that happened yesterday afternoon. He doesn’t really want to think too deeply on that. If he does think about it, if the answer really is because of Dean, it does not look good for what Castiel will be like if he ever gets his freedom.

Lilith and Alistair leave and Sam runs his hands through his hair angrily. Frustration echoes under his words. _(She says she’ll be back this evening and you better have eaten all those fish by then. She doesn’t want you to get sick and not eating and not sleeping is going to get you sick.)_

_(It hasn’t even been a whole day. I’ll probably sleep later. I just… don’t feel like it right now.)_

Sam’s thoughts turn comforting, soothing. _(It’s okay. I get it. I understand days like that. I had them plenty enough when I was using.)_

Castiel shrugs again. _(Where did Lilith go?)_

 _(She said she has some arrangements to make. We’re supposed to be reaching America in about a week and a half.)_ Sam walks over to Dean’s bed and Castiel watches as he takes down the calendar from the wall. _(Our extended stay here has really thrown off our time line. At this rate, we won’t be docking in California until next month.)_

_(That’s a long time?)_

Sam crumbles the paper and throws it in a one of the buckets. _(We’ve got at least three weeks. At most, four weeks. We’ve still got a little ways up the coast to go before they’re turn us to the west.)_

 _(Fin-kin have songs that track landmarks for routes to hunting grounds or the kelp forests. Do humans keep track of things like that?)_ Castiel uncurls and slides across the floor to the front wall. _(Can you show me where we are? Where the light-beds are? Where we’re going?)_

Sam looks between Castiel and the computers. _(What you’re asking about is a map. We’ve drawn out pretty much the whole world. It’s the ocean that’s mostly unexplored. Give me a minute to pull one up.)_

He speaks with Jess for a few minutes before sitting at the computer. Images and boxes pop up all over the flat glow and Castiel is distracted with watching it. He barely notices when Jess leaves. He brushes curiosity through the kin-connection and Sam shrugs.

_(Breakfast.)_

Sam slides to the side and the flat glowing surface of the computer is covered in blue with chunks of green and brown on it and white at the top and bottom. He watches closely as Sam does something that makes the picture get bigger, focusing toward the center of the image and the mass of green that kind of looks like the number seven.

 _(Here. This is where we found you.)_ Sam points to a place slightly below the bend of the green mass. _(There’s a cluster of islands here and where we found you was off one of the smallest. They’re mostly fishing companies and villages out there.)_

He traces his finger up along the blue, following the edge of the green and tracing the curve and around to where its starts to bend up toward the top. He stops at the corner. _(We’re right here. After we caught you we stopped in a port for a few days to refuel and fill up on supplies. Once we reach here –)_ He slips his finger a little higher up the corner. _(- we’re going to turn this way.)_ His finger drags to the left.

The image moves out again until Castiel can see everything again. Sam drags his finger across the span of blue between the masses of brown and green until he reaches the one on the far left. He continues to trace the path, moving his finger down between the thin section separating the top mass and the bottom mass. _(We’ll pass through the channel here and come up around the left until we reach here.)_ He stops and taps the screen. _(So, three to four weeks. Twenty-one to twenty-eight days.)_

Castiel presses his hands to the glass and stares hard at the map and the area of where they are and where he came from. _(How many days are we from the islands?)_

 _(About ten days. I’m not sure how we can figure out how you measure distance in relation to how we do. But it’s a really, really long way.)_ Sam leans back heavily in his chair and rubs a hand over his face. _(When we get back in the water, it’s going to take you weeks to swim back. If we get away with our own boat too, it might be faster for us to take you back.)_

Slowly Castiel draws away from the glass, his fins rippling unhappily. It’s so _far_. And they want to take him even farther. If he doesn’t get away, if they cross the ocean – it’s not that hard to figure out that the blue on the map was the sea – and take him leagues upon leagues upon leagues from his colony, he might never find his way back.

Not without the help of humans. Not without Dean. But the longer he spends with Dean, the harder it will be to leave.

Sam pushes concern against his mind. _(It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.)_

Castiel shakes his head and wraps his arms around his chest. _(I need to clear my head.)_ Despite the heavy weight that has settled in his limbs, he rolls through the water and starts swimming in wide circles around small-sea’s perimeter. Sam watches him until Castiel closes his eyes and he can’t see anything but what is returned to him when he makes the chirping clicks of his echoes.

 _(You’re just tiring yourself out more. You should eat and sleep.)_ Sam’s thoughts touch his in a gentle sweep through the kin-connection.

Annoyed, Castiel blocks their link so he can’t hear Sam at all – but not completely severing the kin-connection. He can’t think clearly when there is someone as inquisitive and prying as Sam in his head too. He has all day to eat or sleep before Lilith returns. Right now, while all this new information is fresh in his head, he needs to think.

Castiel swims and he contemplates and he comes to no conclusion. There are too many factors to take into account and he can’t even think about how to get out of the small-sea. He doesn’t have any of the tools necessary to do it himself and there are too many barriers between him and the sea. He needs help from Dean, and Sam, and Jess and whomever else is willing to aide him.

But Lilith keeps stopping them. She’s taken Dean way and if Sam or Jess do anything, they might be taken away too. Castiel doesn’t want anyone else that he’s even remotely comfortable with to be separated from him. And if he’s only allowed to make the kin-connection with Sam or Lilith, how he is supposed to properly be able to organize another escape for all of them?

And there’s the matter of this _thing_ at the back of his head and the possibility of another chip somewhere in his body. He needs to get these out before he can leave the boat. At least he needs to have another  x-ray done to see if something else is inside him. He’ll claw it out from under his own skin if he needs to so he can return home.

Someone starts knocking again and Castiel stop short, opening his eyes to glare. Sam is gone and it’s Jess smiling and waving at him. He softens his glare and sinks slowly onto the fold of his tail. He furrows his brow and tilts his head to the side, pointed looking around before mouthing Sam’s name. Jess holds up a piece of paper with big, obvious letters spelling out D-E-A-N.

His fans flex and Castiel immediately draws open the kin-connection with Sam. _(Are you with Dean?)_

It takes a moment before Sam responds. It’s not too big a distance between them, but their link is still a little strained. _(Yeah, I brought him breakfast.)_

Castiel pulls at the kin-connection, silently asking for images. He wants to see Dean and make sure he’s not hurt. Sam takes a moment, talking with Dean, before he figures out how to share what he’s seeing immediately. The image comes up and though it’s foggy and wavers with Sam’s first attempts at using the kin-connection like this, Castiel can see Dean sitting on the edge of a bed that is also beneath another bed.

His back is bowed to keep from hitting his head on the bed above his own. Dean has one of the white-boxes for food in one hand he grins up at Sam, raising his hand in a wave. He gives a thumbs-up and Castiel feels relief flood through his chest. Castiel has to stop himself from waving back on reflex. He sighs instead and stretches out on his back.

_(Is he okay? Has he thought of anything to do? Did he sleep?)_

_(Yes, he’s fine. No, he hasn’t thought of anything. He’s still waiting for Lilith to come talk to him. Yes, he did sleep. Badly.)_

Dean shrugs and takes a bite of a wavy brown strip. Sam explains that it’s a kind of meat called ‘bacon’ and Dean grins and takes a big bite of it again. He asks if Castiel has eaten yet and Castiel winces, hesitating to answer. Sam answers in his place and Castiel winces when Dean’s expression hardens and he levels a hard look at Sam, though they all know it’s meant for him.

 _(He says ‘eat something’.)_ Sam relays the message, but Castiel could read the words on Dean’s lips.

Castiel frowns and curls up on his side, tucking his tail under his head again. _(But I’m not hungry.)_ And he’s not. His stomach stopped making the grumbling noises a while ago and he hasn’t started to feel that acidic tickle in the back of his throat yet.

He can see the doubt on Dean’s face and he feels Sam’s curl the edges of the kin-connection. _(You need to eat. It was bad enough when Lilith tried starving you into submission a week ago. We don’t need you making yourself sick without sleeping or eating.)_

He doesn’t have a response. It’s not that he’s actively choosing not to sleep. He’d tried last night. He’d tried several different positions to sleep, and he’d kept his eyes closed for the majority of the night. But he didn’t sleep. And he simply doesn’t feel like eating.

Castiel is only half notices that Dean puts aside his food and stands up in front of Sam. The way he’s looking at Sam, it’s like he’s looking right at Castiel and the hard look sends a shiver running down his spine.

Sam sends him the words as Dean says them. The hard edge that Dean would have in his own thoughts, Sam has them himself. _(Eat, Cas. Don’t make me worry about you more than I already do. Lilith told you to eat and if you don’t, she’s going to use that damn necklace of hers to hurt you again until you listen to her.)_

Dean’s expression shifts slightly and something hot burns through Castiel’s chest. For only a moment, Dean looks upset – he looks horrified and terrified and it’s only there for a second before it’s gone and he looks stern again.

_(I don’t ever want to see that – or hear it – again. Please, Cas, just eat.)_

__


	18. Recuperating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows the words they’re speaking, but the sounds are jumbled together and they’re not making sense. There’s something resting over his tail and Castiel thrashes, trying to get it off. He doesn’t want to be tied down again. He was good, he ate the fish and he didn’t try to make the kin-connection with anyone and he didn’t try to attack Lilith’s mind. He doesn’t want to be on Alistair’s table again where he will take knives and needles to Castiel’s body again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, epiphanywisps, days-of-dust, tigercat070, type40, seraphlimonade, ssteidi, elamib, recalledflight, and mituna-mackeral.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel can’t really remember what happened between when Dean asked him to eat and when Lilith came back that evening. He knows that several hours passed and that Sam returned. He knows that Sam tried to convince him to eat or sleep, and that Dean sent many texts and made many phone calls. He knows Jess brought Dean his guitar but left the case under the bed.

What he doesn’t know is what _he_ did for all those hours.

He didn’t eat. And if he slept, he certainly doesn’t feel like he did. His eyes are sore, and when he blinks it feels like they’re sticking closed. It’s an effort to open them again. Castiel doesn’t even feel the smooth press of the glass against his shoulder where he is curled in the back corner of small-sea by Dean’s bed. His body feels numb and his muscles ache whenever he shifts.

He hasn’t moved for what feels like hours by the time Lilith walks in. Castiel can barely lift his head, and he watches listlessly as Sam gives Lilith his chair. She places it directly at the center of the front-wall and crosses her legs when she sits. When she looks toward him, she waves and Castiel’s arm twinges as he lifts it to wave back. He’ll cater to whatever she wants as long as it means she doesn’t make the pain spike through his head again.

The kin-connection with Sam has been hanging slack between them. Sometimes Sam brushes against his mind, concern pulsing along the edges. With Lilith in the room, Castiel makes the effort to pull the link tight. He immerses himself in Sam’s thoughts, dragging them around him to give him comfort and strength.

Lilith speaks quietly to Sam and he immediately translates for Castiel. _(She wants you to sing.)_

A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t want to sing. His throat, his body, and his head are too sore. Castiel can barely think straight, let alone focus on the memory of a song long enough to sing its notes. Lilith is watching him expectantly, rolling the pendent between her fingers. There are very few songs that Castiel is willing to sing in her presence. There is only one song he can think of singing right now.

Castiel sighs and closes his eyes, tilting his head against the glass. He takes one deep breath, the water rushing through his gills, before he sings. The tones echo in small-sea, vibrating in the water as  he raises his voice in song. Castiel sings the wrong-song; the lonely song that describes his desire for family, for home, for more fin-kin.

Every chord is strained, wrenching from his throat in nearly a croak. He can’t achieve the high notes that warble in the tones of the sea-giants. Castiel can barely finish the song and he sags forward when he’s done. He’s tired and hungry, but he doesn’t have the energy to catch a fish and he doesn’t feel like eating. Sometimes he gets the acidic tingle at the back of his throat, but he can easily ignore it.

It’s not that he’s purposefully not eating. Castiel knows that his body is hungry and he knows that he should eat, but he doesn’t have the desire to. He doesn’t want to move and the thought of eating anything – either a fish or the human’s food – makes his throat feel tight, like there’s something stuck in it, and his stomach turns. He’s scared that if he eats anything, it will only make him sick.

Castiel hugs himself harder, his blunt nails digging into his sides. He looks up again and Lilith is smiling while she talks to Sam. He’s not translating now and Castiel is thankful for it. When Sam actually speaks to him it sends a dull throb through his temples. The gentle wash of emotions – concern, trepidation, displeasure – don’t hurt and are more of a comfort than anything else.

He closes his eyes to Lilith’s wide, red smile and turns his cheek against the glass. It’s cold, more so than usual. It’s soothing and Castiel presses his side against it. A quiet longing for the cool waters of the deep pulses in his chest and if he didn’t want to eat before, he wants to eat even less so now.

Sam’s firm touch to his mind makes Castiel wince and he cracks open one eye to look back at them. Lilith’s smile is gone and she’s watching the fish still swimming near the surface with an unhappy frown.

_(She wants to know why you didn’t eat.)_

Castiel’s shoulder twitches in a mockery of a shrug. _(I’m not hungry.)_

_(She knows when you ate last and she’ll know you’re lying.)_ Sam presses his lips into a thin line and quickly glances at the fish. _(Could you eat just one? Or enough to satisfy her? She’s going to use the pendant if you don’t.)_

His fans flex in agitation. Castiel doesn’t want the pain again, but he honestly doesn’t feel like he could eat anything right now. If he does eat, and it makes him sick, he’ll be stuck in small-sea with the puke. He doesn’t have shells of giant clams or woven kelp baskets to sift the sick from the water to take it to bury elsewhere. It would be disgusting to keep sitting in small-sea with that in the water. It’s just as bad as leaving his waste around without burying it.

That only serves to remind Castiel that he hasn’t relieved himself in a few days. It’s not healthy, but he hasn’t felt any kind of pressing need for it. It could be a problem with the human food he ate yesterday, or it could be that he’s had nothing but fish since he was captured. He needs more than just fish. Thinking of the sweet flesh of clams or the tough meat of a sea-giant makes his mouth water. And since his stomach doesn’t feel right, he wouldn’t mind chewing on a few strands of kelp to help settle it.

_(Please, Castiel? Just one? Dean wants you to eat too and Lilith isn’t going to leave until you eat something. If she ‘trains’ you again, Dean is going to be really angry.)_

Castiel’s upper lip curls back and he narrows his eyes at Sam. _(Don’t use Dean to get me to do things I don’t want to do. I don’t feel right and I don’t want to eat if it’s just going to make me sick.)_

Immediately Sam’s thoughts flood with worry and he steps closer to the wall. _(You’re not feeling well?)_

He shakes his head and closes his eyes again. _(Tell Lilith I’ll eat later. When I feel better.)_

There’s nothing but Sam’s concern trembling through the kin-connection for several long moments. Castiel’s side-fans twitch, catching the start-stop rumble of throat-voices on the other side of the glass. The noises get gradually louder and Castiel can easily distinguish Lilith from Sam. Often a third voice, Jess, joins in. Castiel isn’t sure if she’s yelling at Lilith or at Sam.

A sharp knocking sounds on the glass and Castiel flinches, pressing his hands over his side-fans. He looks up and Lilith is standing, her hand poised to knock again. Her face is set in a hard glare and her other hand is resting just beneath the pendant on her chest. Sam is standing behind her and Castiel is almost unprepared for the fury that burns through the kin-connection.

_(She says if you don’t eat now, Dean doesn’t eat later.)_

Castiel hisses and turns his unhappy glare to Lilith. He’s getting very annoyed with how everyone keeps using Dean against him. Lilith, Sam, even Dean does it. Having such a weakness is bothersome and shaming to his pride as a warrior. Everything about how he’s currently acting is shaming. His nest-siblings would laugh and scorn him.

If he moves now, if he catches a fish and forces himself to eat it, it’ll just be more proof that they can use Dean to manipulate him. It’s fine when it’s just Castiel’s wellbeing at risk, but it is _not_ okay to control him this way. This is something that he needs to rectify immediately. Lilith needs to know that she can’t threaten Dean to get Castiel to do whatever she wants.

But he can’t just let Dean go hungry. Dean has never not provided Castiel with something to eat. In fact, he’s broken Lilith’s rules to make sure that Castiel is fed. Whether or not Castiel actually ate anything during those times isn’t important. What matters is Dean got him food when he was ordered not to and Castiel should return the favour.

He hates that he’s given them this power over him.

He uncurls from the corner slowly, sliding along the floor until he’s beneath the small school of fish. His movements are slow and they feel ungainly. Castiel hasn’t felt this way in his own skin since he started growing into his fans.

Carefully, he rises from the floor. He controls the ripple of his adipose fins and the twitching of his tail so he doesn’t spook the fish. He kept his thoughts hidden from Sam, but he lets his irritation at being pushed around slip into the kin-connection. Predictably, Sam replies with remorse and apologies and it’s nothing that Castiel wants to hear right now.

He chances one glance at Lilith. She’s watching him closely and her fingers are resting lightly along the edges of the pendant. Castiel’s hatred for her sears through the kin-connection so hard it makes Sam wince and stagger back a step. Castiel sends a pulse of apology before trying to catch a fish. He misses the first few times. His arms won’t move as fast as they should and his fingers are sluggish, closing too late over the space where the fish was moments before.

By the time he catches one, he’s more tired and annoyed than he was when he started. Castiel sinks to the floor with the fish struggling against his fingers and he almost feels pity for it before he sinks his teeth into its fleshy belly. He knows Lilith watches him the whole time, straight through ripping the skeleton out and sucking the meat from the bones.

His stomach protests every bite that he swallows around the lump in his throat. When he’s done, Castiel carries the bones to the surface and pushes them through the bars. He dumps them over the edge of the glass-wall and watches with twisted pleasure as Lilith jumps back, her lips curled in a sneer of disgust.

_(Is that enough to satisfy her?)_ Castiel turns his attention to Sam, his eyes narrowed. His stomach is twisting uncomfortably with the weight of the food settling in his belly. _(Will she leave me in peace now?)_

Sam hesitates, indecision dancing over his thoughts before he turns to Lilith and asks the questions. Her frown turns into a scowl and Castiel returns her glare with equal force. Bile is rising, stinging in his chest, and Castiel knows he’s going to be sick. He can feel it pushing at his insides and he’s loathe to dirty the only water that he’s forced to swim in, but he has no choice.

He breaks his staring match with Lilith to hunch forward, pressing one hand to his stomach and the other over his mouth. Sam’s concern flickers brightly through the kin-connection as Castiel leans his forehead against the glass, fighting the sick feeling sweeping from his stomach and up into his throat.

_(What’s wrong? Are you okay?)_

_(I_ told _you I wasn’t hungry.)_ Castiel twists, rolling through the water into the front left corner of small-sea – directly opposite from the spot he’s taken to resting in while Dean is gone. Because he’s only gone temporarily. He _will_ be back, Castiel is certain of it.

He moves the hand covering his mouth and presses it hard against the glass-wall, supporting himself as he curls over and empties his stomach. The scent of it in the water is disgusting and the moment Castiel is done he slides away, disturbing the water as little as possible so that he doesn’t spread the mess around.

The rest of the fish swarm into the corner, picking curiously at the undigested remains of their kin. Castiel grimaces and rubs a hand across his face. He breathes through his mouth, using the rush of the water to clean the rest of the sick from his teeth and tongue. His head is pounding again and now his stomach feels worse than before, clenching uncomfortably with the aftershocks.

Castiel sinks into his familiar place at the back of small-sea. He wraps his arms tightly around his waist and folds his tail up against his chest, pressing his face into his scales. He wasn’t feeling fantastic before and now he feels so much worse. The cool touch of the glass is oddly soothing and he leans against it heavily, taking what little comfort he can.

Sam and Lilith are talking – yelling – again. The noise is annoying, just like everything else. He’s sick, he’s tired, and he just wants to sleep. He wants to curl under the warmth of Dean’s blankets, pressed against the heat of Dean’s body, and fall asleep to the gentle sounds of Dean breathing. He wants his family and friends and the smooth groove of his sleep-shelf that he spent many seasons carving out of the trench wall. He wants to stretch out over the stone and doze off to the voices of the colony with Dean laying next to him.

He wants so much, but he can’t have any of it and it’s not _fair_.

x

Castiel wakes with a startled cry. His fans flare – or try to, something is holding his back-fans down – and his tail lashes out, matching the sharp, jerky movements of his arms. His muscles still ache slightly, but the only pain he feels is in his belly and his head. Hunger claws at his insides, but his stomach is twisting in on itself, feeling like it’s knotting into more and more complicated shapes. His head feels like it’s too small, too tight.

The roar of the pump – the sound that shocked him awake – cuts out and hands close around his wrists. His thoughts are foggy and he struggles to comprehend how anyone could be touching him right now. No one should be in small-sea. It should be just him. Lilith has the key and she said he’s not allowed out and no one is allowed in.

Does that mean it’s Lilith touching him? Are the cold hands holding his wrists and pushing them down to his sides hers? If he could see he would have an answer. But he can’t see. Why can’t he see? What’s wrong with his eyes?

Panic spirals violently in his chest and Castiel cries out again, struggling anew against the chilled fingers. A voice sounds above him. It’s too deep to be Lilith’s, and it’s not smarmy like Alistair’s, or harsh like Gordon’s. Castiel is scared by how long it takes him to recognize that the voice belongs to Sam. There’s another voice talking behind his. It’s higher pitched – female – but not Lilith’s. It must be Jess – she and Sam are never far apart.

He knows the words they’re speaking, but the sounds are jumbled together and they’re not making sense. There’s something resting over his tail and Castiel thrashes, trying to get it off. He doesn’t want to be tied down again. He was good, he ate the fish and he didn’t try to make the kin-connection with anyone and he didn’t try to attack Lilith’s mind. He doesn’t want to be on Alistair’s table where he will take knives and needles to Castiel’s body again.

His tail connects with something hard and heavy. There’s a loud crash and Castiel jerks at the noise, his shoulders pressing back into something soft. That’s wrong. He shouldn’t be on anything soft. The last thing he remembers is the hard press of glass against his side and the floor of small-sea under him.

He realizes, belatedly, that each gasping breath is sucking air instead of water. But that doesn’t make sense. Why is he outside of small-sea? When did that happen?

Castiel hisses sharply and squeezes his eyes shut when it suddenly gets very bright. He hears a splash and then the sound of dripping water before something cold is pressed to his forehead. He stills, his only movement being the rippling of his adipose fins. The cold moves down to his cheek and then to his neck and back up over his other cheek.

It feels _good_.

He opens his eyes slowly, adjusting to the light. Sam is sitting next to him, his hands still wrapped around Castiel’s wrists. Confusion twists his thoughts. The hands holding him down are cold, but Sam has only ever had warm hands. Lilith’s hands have been both warm and cold. Can all humans change their temperatures like that?

And if Sam is holding his arms, who is petting his face with the cool something? Castiel presses his head into the softness under him, tilting back to look above him. He sees a wall. He turns his head to the side at the sound of another splash. Pamela is kneeling next to him – no, next to a bed that he is laying on. Small-sea is behind her, but the platform isn’t between the bed and small-sea, so that must mean – why is he in Dean’s bed? When did he move here?

Pamela is looking down at something that Castiel can’t see. The edge of the bed is in the way. When she looks back up, she smiles softly and raises a cloth. She presses it to his forehead again and it’s cold and wonderful.

“Hey Angelfish, welcome back to the world of the living.” He was wrong. The higher-pitched voice wasn’t Jess. “You had us worried there for a while.”

Pamela’s words are murmured softly and Castiel’s eyes slide closed as she smoothes the cloth over his face again. She touches at his chin gently and he allows her to tilt his head so she can run the cold cloth over his gills.

Sam lets go of his arms and Castiel feels the weight on his tail move. He looks down and watches as Sam rearranges the blanket that was knocked askew by Castiel’s thrashing. From what Castiel can tell, Lilith and Jess are not in the room.

When Pamela puts the cloth out of sight again, Castiel rolls onto his side. He flexes his back-fans, stretching them and rustling the webbing. They’re stiff and sore. He must have been laying on them for longer than he realizes. The pillow under his head smells like him, but it smells like Dean too and he turns his face into it, letting the scent fill his senses.

The cloth is cool against the back of his neck and Castiel gives a small purr of approval. He turns onto his stomach and welcomes the cold touch across the backs of his shoulders and down his arms. The gentle, repetitive motion is quickly lulling him back into whatever state of unconsciousness he must have been in to not even notice being moved from small-sea.

He still has so many questions he wants to ask about why, what, how – but he’s tired. He’s so tired and the press of the cloth is cold and perfect. His head still feels too tight and he doesn’t want to focus on anything, let alone trying to concentrate long enough to make the kin-connection with Sam to get the answers he needs. That’s another question he will have to ask later: when did he lose their link?

The questions can wait. Sam is busy talking to someone else. Or, at least, Castiel thinks he isn’t talking to him. His voice is farther away and Pamela isn’t speaking back to him. Castiel thinks he hears his name a few times, but he’s not sure and it doesn’t really matter. Everything is just words, words, words and more words and not even half of them are ones that Castiel recognizes.

Pamela makes him roll back onto his side and Castiel is thankful for it. His stomach didn’t like him laying on it. It flutters unhappily under his ribs while Pamela moves the cloth over his chest. He doesn’t really understand why she’s doing that. His skin doesn’t need to be kept damp as much as his scales do. They dry out much faster.

He’s drifting thoughtlessly when he’s startled out of his reverie by Sam pulling the blanket back. Castiel can barely keep his eyes open to watch as Sam lifts his tail and Pamela stops with the cold cloth long enough to shove several towels into the space between his scales and the bed. He closes his eyes again when Sam places a bucket on the bed and starts scooping water over his tail.

Pressure starts building in his throat, pushing at the back of it. Castiel makes a small unhappy noise. He knows what the feeling is and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want to throw up again. There is nothing left in his stomach for him to expel. At least, not to his knowledge. He’s not sure how much time he has lost between his first moment of sickness and when he woke up. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed since the pump woke him.

Why were they using the pump anyway? Small-sea’s water is relatively fresh. It hasn’t even a whole day since they filled it.

He groans and wraps his arms around his stomach as it clenches painfully. Castiel whines in annoyance when Pamela puts her hands under his shoulders and pulls him to the edge of the bed. There’s another bucket sitting on the floor next to a bowl of water. The cloth is sitting in the water and there are many clear pieces of ice floating in it.

Sam sits on the edge of the bed next to him again and his hands replace Pamela’s on his shoulders. He guides Castiel to lean over the edge of the bed. Castiel watches, blearily, as Pamela lifts the bucket so that it is held directly under his face. He doesn’t need to wonder for long why they’re doing this.

His stomach gives another painful twist and a strangled noise escapes his lips before his whole body shakes. The first few choking coughs are nothing but dry heaves. The last few are full of bile that stings at his throat and nose.

Pamela and Sam don’t let him move from this position until they’re certain he’s done. Sam lifts him to sit up and Castiel slumps against his chest. He doesn’t have the energy or the will to move. The last time he was sick, he was still a child and it was a nasty stomach sickness that had spread among most of the young ones.

A cup is pressed to his lips and it takes a few tries and much water dripping down his chin before Pamela takes it. Castiel groggily watches her take a sip and her cheeks puff out one side at a time while she swishes the water before spitting it into the bucket she’s still holding. When they offer the cup to him again, Castiel mimics her, rinsing his mouth of the taste of the bile.

When they fill the cup again and give it to him, Castiel is confused. He has already spat into the bucket a few times. Why do they keep wanting him to do it? Pamela smiles and takes a sip of the water again, but this time she swallows it. Oh. They want him to _drink_ it. He’s never consciously drank water before. It sort of occurs naturally when he breathes while swimming.

It’s a weird sensation to feel the cool water slip down his throat and settle in his stomach instead of his lungs or push through his gills. Pamela encourages him to drink the whole thing before Sam lays Castiel back onto the bed. He curls up on his side and tucks his hands under the pillow, pressing his face into it and submersing himself in the scent of Dean.

Someone pushes their hand through his hair once before the blanket is pulled up over his shoulder and tucked close to his sides. Pamela places the cold, wet cloth over his forehead and Castiel sighs in relief. It feels so good and it makes his head hurt less. He doesn’t listen to the quiet whispers they share between them and he drifts again.

x

The next time he wakes, Castiel is alone. The lights are dimmed, but the cloth on his forehead is still wet and the blanket covering him is a little damp from what he assumes must have been the last soaking of his scales.

He feels more aware now. His head doesn’t hurt as much and this time his stomach doesn’t protest any movement when he pushes the blanket down and sits up. He corrects his first assumption that he was alone when he sees Sam through the small-sea, sleeping on his own bed.

There’s a small table set up next to Dean’s bed and there is a cup, a bowl of water and a stack of pale squares. Castiel dips his fingers into the bowl. It’s cold, but there are no pieces of ice in it. He picks the cloth up from where it fell on the pillow and puts it in the bowl. The cup of water must be intended for him to drink. He’d rather breathe the water through his gills or pour it over his scales, but his fans and fins flex easily, so Sam must have wetted them before going to bed. He can’t have gone to sleep very long ago.

Castiel sips at the water while he looks around. The small-stick of the clock is on the single numbers again, but he doesn’t know if that means it’s late at night, or if it’s just afternoon. Humans don’t make much sense with how they tell time. Castiel prefers the tides and living day to day without needing to know anything like time. They just… _know_ when it’s time to do things.

He shivers. He’s never been cold enough to really shiver before. Castiel rubs at his arms and immediately stops. He looks down at his arm, confused, before pressing his hand to his skin. He’s warm. Castiel has never been _this_ warm before. He feels his chest and his neck and his face and everything is so _warm_. It frightens him.

Now the cold cloth and Pamela rubbing it over him makes sense. Castiel tries to remember what she did. The cloth is heavy with water, and the droplets that run over his skin feel amazing. But the cold touch makes him shiver again. How can his skin feel so warm but he is still so cold? And he still feels so tired and he’s so _hungry_. But he doesn’t want to eat. He doesn’t want to be sick again.

“Eat the crackers.”

Castiel startles, looking up quickly and immediately regretting the movement. The room spins and he squeezes his eyes as his head pounds. When he can see properly, Sam is already getting out of bed. He comes around small-sea and Castiel moves slowly when he looks up.

Sam puts his hand on Castiel’s forehead and a frown pulls at his lips. He takes the cloth from Castiel and wets it again. He sits on the edge of the bed, twisting the cloth in his hands over the bowl before dabbing it at Castiel’s neck and shoulders again. Castiel leans into the touch and Sam smiles, but it’s a sad smile. He taps at his forehead and Castiel knows that Sam wants the kin-connection.

It would take too much out of him right now to make it and he shakes his head slowly. “No. Head hurts. Sleep.”

Sam sighs and puts the cloth aside. He picks up one of the pales squares. Castiel leans away when he holds it out to him.

“Eat. It’s a cracker. It’ll help settle your stomach.” Sam speaks softly. “If you do get sick, it’ll at least be something to throw up. Please?”

Castiel presses his lips together once before taking the square. He nibbles at the corner and it crumbles against his tongue. It reminds Castiel of the bun-bread from the hamburger and his stomach doesn’t object when he swallows. Sam keeps handing him more of the ‘crackers’ with one hand while he does something to his phone with the other. The phone makes a trilling noise and Castiel hisses, both in surprise and pain as it hurts his head. Sam puts the phone to his ear and says a few words before holding it between them.

“Cas?”

His side-fans twitch, flaring at the voice. He sits forward, reaching to touch the phone gingerly. “Dean!”

“Hey, buddy. How you feeling?”

This is a question Castiel knows. “Bad. Head hurt.”

Sam sighs softly. “He’s still feverish, but he just ate some crackers. He hasn’t thrown up since he woke up earlier.”

The phone makes a crackling noise that sounds like a sigh. “Keep me posted, okay? And Cas, you sleep. Get better.”

Castiel nods, knowing Dean won’t see him but he does it anyway. “Okay. Dean sleep?”

“Doubt it. But I’ll try. You need lots of rest. Sleep now.”

He shakes his head and nibbles at another cracker. “Cold.”

“Sam, tuck him in. Get him another blanket if he needs it. Throw one of my sweaters over him or something. Keep him warm.”

“I know how to take care of someone sick, Dean. Jesus.” Sam sounds annoyed, but he’s smiling at the phone. “How many times did I have to take care of your ass when you came down with a cold? You’re the biggest baby ever when you’ve got the sniffles.”

“Fuck you, no I’m not. And who knows how a fever affects Cas. Did Pam give him anything?”

Castiel lays back down on the bed, curled on his side. He reaches for the phone and Sam lets him take it. He places it on the pillow and tucks his hands under it, listening to the sound of Dean’s voice while he and Sam talk.

“No, she doesn’t want to take the risk. We’re dealing with it the same way we would handle it for anyone else. His body temp when we brought him in is way lower than ours and it was up a lot when we pulled him out of the tank last night. The problem is, we don’t know what temperature is considered dangerous for him and what’s not.”

“Well, what’s his temp now?”

“I… don’t know. Hold on, I’ve got to get the thermometer.” Sam pats Castiel’s hip through the blanket and stands up.

Castiel doesn’t watch what he does. He’s watching the phone and wishing that Dean and his heat were here instead. The pillow doesn’t smell like him anymore. He tugs the blanket up over his shoulder and even that smells like Castiel and the salt scent of small-sea’s water. Nothing smells like Dean anymore and that makes him feel worse.

“Dean back when?” He touches the phone gently, tracing the edge of it with one finger. “Please back.”

“I don’t know, Cas. Soon, I hope. Just sleep, okay?”

He hums and closes his eyes. “Dean okay?”

“I’m fine. Just grounded for throwing Lilith around. I don’t know how long it’ll be before she thinks I’ve been punished enough. This is fucking humiliating being sent to my room, y’know? I haven’t been grounded since… Shit, I don’t even know when. Since I was twelve? I dunno. Whenever it was that I took Dad’s gun out behind Bobby’s place and shot those cans off the fence.”

Sam sits down again. The dip of the bed startles Castiel and he opens his eyes, not realizing he had closed them while Dean was talking. “Actually, you were thirteen. I was nine when that happened. Dad was impressed you hit them all, but Bobby was the one who grounded your ass.”

Dean laughs and it makes a smile pull at the corner of Castiel’s mouth. He has no idea what they’re talking about, but he likes listening to them talk. Their tones are warm and soft and he thinks they must be reminiscing about something. He watches Sam lift a thin, clear stick and shake it out a few times before he pulls the blanket back. Castiel whines and shivers, but he lets Sam lift his arm and place the silver end of the stick in the pit where arm meets shoulder and side. Sam tucks his arm back down and pulls the blanket up again.

“Remember that time we played hide-and-seek in the junk yard?”

“Oh God, Bobby yelled at us for half an hour for that.” Dean laughs again. “He was so pissed. Watched us like a hawk for weeks after.”

“For good reason. A month later I sliced me knee open on that old blue truck in the back of the lot.” Sam is looking at his wrist and the band around it. “I got a nasty infection from that too, remember?”

“Yeah, of course I do. You had the crutches and everything. Whined like a little girl and sent me off on every whim of yours. I probably lost fifteen pounds running around on your little bullshit errands.”

Castiel closes his eyes, listening to the rumble of their voices. His thoughts are starting to drift again and he barely notices when Sam takes the stick out from under his arm, or when he takes the phone and stands up. He hears the steady thump of his footsteps as he walks around the room. Sam turns off whatever allows Castiel to hear Dean’s voice and his voice gets softer.

He’s not sure when he drops off or how long he sleeps, but when he opens his eyes again, Sam is back in his bed and snoring quietly. Castiel sits up slowly, feeling the drying damp of the blanket. The cloth that had been resting on the back of his neck is mostly dry, so Sam must have gone to bed a while ago. He places it in the bowl to let it soak and drinks the cup of water Sam left for him.

There are more crackers and he eats some of those too. His stomach clenches slightly but the pressure doesn’t build in his throat again. He’s still shivering a little, and he wants to burrow back under the blankets to stay warm. But the allure of the bed has lessened now that it doesn’t smell like Dean anymore. Castiel doesn’t take the same comfort from it without Dean or his scent.

Castiel stretches and his fins ripple. He is feeling better. His head hurts less and he’s not as tired as he was before. But there’s not much for him to do right now. He doesn’t have the phone to speak with Dean, or a book to read – not that he would know what he’s reading if he doesn’t have someone to translate for him. He doesn’t even have the water to twist and roll through.

He wants something to distract himself with. The last thing Castiel wants is to do is have nothing but his thoughts. He doesn’t want to think about how much he misses his home and all the many things he wants. The more he thinks about those, the sadder he gets.

His thoughts and his submission to Lilith are disgusting to him. They’re shaming and Castiel hates them. He wants to show her that she should be afraid of him. Castiel is a warrior. He is a soldier of the colony, a skilled fighter trained to kill, to fight and protect his kin. She thinks he is a pet and she is so very _wrong_.

Castiel wonders if he could get the papers and pens from the drawers under the ledge and bring them back to the bed without waking Sam. He wonders if his insides would tolerate the movement and if he’s strong enough to push and pull himself across the floor. His muscles are still a little sore and he feels weak when he curls his fingers into a fist.

He doesn’t want to wake Sam to get him anything. Sam had looked just as tired as Castiel had felt when he was awake last time. Castiel can’t remember which of the numbers on the clock that the small-stick-hand had been on last time, so he’s not sure how long it’s been since then when he looks at the clock.

Castiel is bored. He wants something to entertain him and all he has is his thoughts and what is within reach. That includes the drawers at the end of the bed and the things Dean has stored underneath. He doesn’t want to pry into Dean’s personal things, because that would be rude. But there really isn’t anything else to do and now that he’s thought of it, he can’t stop thinking about it and his curiosity keeps growing.

It is with slow movements that he slides down the bed to sit at the end. He drapes the blanket over his shoulder and shuffles his back-fans until it settles comfortably over him. Castiel glances at Sam repeatedly as he opens the top drawer, checking to make sure he hasn’t woken him. It slides open silently and he peaks over the edge into it. Many items are scattered across the bottom.

There is a small stack of the glossy paged magazines that Dean reads, and one book. There is thin box in one corner, open at one end. Castiel pulls it out and up ends the contents into his hand. Several flat shiny squares fall into his palm and he sorts through them. There is a hard circle raising the center of them and Castiel feels each package before putting them back in the box and returning it to its place in the drawer.

He thumbs through the book, but most of the pages only have lines on them and no words. There are several pages at one end of the book that have words that look like Dean wrote them himself. Castiel flips through them and he’s surprised when he finds a picture. It is of a female with long yellow hair and she is holding a young child. They’re both smiling. Castiel carefully puts the picture between the same pages and returns the book to the drawer.

Castiel finds the small silver thing that Dean had used to show him fire so many days ago when he had his nightmare. There is another box with a tuff of very thin, very soft paper sticking out the top of it. He finds a bottle like the soap that Dean used during his shower. Castiel pokes at the knob at the top of it, trying to get it to open so he can sniff at the contents. He gets frustrated after a few minutes and places it gently back next to the box with the soft paper.

There are a few pens and folds of paper. A band of silver and other little boxes. Castiel sifts through them lazily before closing the drawer and leaning down to open the next. This one is full of clothes and he wonders if maybe Dean’s clothes will smell like him. He lifts one of the folded shirts out and immediately puts it back. None of it smells like Dean.

The last drawer has nothing but more clothes and Castiel finds himself bored again. He leaves the blanket on the bed for a moment when he slips carefully and quietly to the floor. Once he’s curled comfortably on the cool floor – which feels wonderful on his scales – he drags the blanket down over his shoulders and checks under the bed.

All of the space is taken up by a big basket and the case of Dean’s guitar. He pulls the basket out and winces as it scrapes on the floor.  Castiel quickly checks over his shoulder, making sure that Sam isn’t awake. Sam makes a snuffling noise, but he doesn’t get up.

The basket is full of crumpled clothes. There are a few shirts, one of Dean’s pairs of jeans, and the long sleeved shirt that Bobby had given Castiel to put on Dean when he was sleeping off the dart-poison after their escape attempt. Bobby had said it was to keep him from being cold. If it could keep Dean warm, then maybe it can also keep Castiel warm.

Castiel pulls the long-sleeves from the basket and holds it up by what he thinks must be the shoulders. There’s the big piece in the center, which would go around the chest, and the thin pieces – the sleeves -  fall on either side of it, for his arms. There is a hole at the bottom and a much smaller hole at the top.

He inspects the top-hole, holding it open with his fingers. It looks big enough to fit his head through. He’s going to have to be very careful when pulling it over his side-fans. And he won’t be able to flex his back-fans properly. Dean has more bulk in his torso than Castiel does, but the long-sleeves won’t be that much bigger on him.

As he holds it close to his face, checking the holes at the end of each sleeve, he notices that Dean’s scent is all over the piece of clothing. It’s perfect. He’ll be warm and surrounded by Dean’s scent. And it sends an oddly fluttery feeling twirling through his chest at the thought of wearing something that belongs to Dean. It’s very close to being the same kind of feeling he had when Dean had put his mouth to Castiel’s neck and left his mark on his skin.

He throws the long-sleeves up by the pillow and quietly pushes the basket back under the bed. Castiel shoves the blanket back up onto the bed and ignores his shivers as he tucks his tail under him and pushes up. He digs his fingers into the edge of the bed by the wall and his arms shake slightly as he pulls himself back up.

Castiel eats another few crackers and dabs at his face and neck and everywhere else he can reach with the cloth. He’s starting to feel tired again and now that he something with Dean’s scent to make the bed comfortable again, he’s happy to go to sleep.

Before he can put the long-sleeves on, he flattens his back-fans and his side-fans as close to his skin as they can go. He slips his arms in through the big-hole at the bottom, pushing them up and through the shirt. He gropes blindly inside of It until he finds the openings that lead into the sleeves. The piece of the shirt that will cover his chest bunches together as he puts his hands through the sleeves.

It takes a few fumbling moments, but Castiel manages to get one hand all the way through a sleeve and out the hole at its end. He uses that hand to pull the other sleeve up his other arm until he can get that hand free too. Now he just needs to put the shirt over his head and get his head through the top-hole.

Castiel puts the big-hole over his head and he’s blinded by the smell of Dean and the shirt. He holds the top-hole open as wide as it will go before trying to fit his head through. It requires some head tilting and a gentle pull at the collar of the top-hole to get it over each side-fan. Once it settles on his shoulders, Castiel pulls the rest of the long-sleeves down over his chest and stomach. It pools around his hips and although there is much space inside, it is still very warm.

The sleeves are bunched at his wrists and if he shakes his arm out, the sleeve falls over his hand and only the very tips of his fingers poke out through the hole at its end. Castiel likes it like that. It keeps his hands warm too. And if he pulls the collar of the shirt up and over his nose, most of his face is kept warm and he’s fully immersed in Dean’s scent.

Yes, it’s definitely perfect.

He arranges the blanket over his tail and curls on his side, his hands in the sleeves and tucked under his cheek. The collar Lilith put on him is still heavy around his neck, but he’s too drunk on Dean’s scent and the comfort it gives him to even care.

x

There’s a hand on his head again, fingers sweeping gently through his hair. Castiel doesn’t want to open his eyes only to find out that it could be Lilith touching him. Something is making a clicking noise and Castiel scrunches his nose at the sound. He doesn’t want to wake up. He’s comfortable, warm, and surrounded by the smell of Dean.

This is the first time that he has woken, since he was sick in small-sea, where his head doesn’t hurt. His stomach feels empty and there is still a feeling of unease twisting at its edges. But he doesn’t feel like throwing up and he actually feels real hunger.

The clicking noise stops with a quiet beep, but the hand in his hair stays. A thumb settles against his forehead, brushing back and forth. It’s actually rather soothing and a purr rolls high in his chest. There’s a soft huff of air from the person touching him and it is close enough that Castiel can feel it on his forehead and against his eyes.

“Hey, Cas?”

That’s Dean’s voice. And it doesn’t sound like it’s strained through the phone. But how could Dean be here? Lilith said he’s not allowed to come back for an indeterminate amount of time. Of course this would be easily solved if he would just open his eyes. Except that Castiel likes being like this and thinking that the fingers petting through his hair are Dean’s and that Dean is actually there.

There’s another huff of laughter. “You gonna keep pretending to be asleep?”

No, that is definitely Dean’s voice.

Castiel opens his eyes and blinks blearily at the shape of a face at the edge of the bed. It’s familiar, but his eyes don’t focus and he has to rub at them with the heel of his hand through the sleeve. “Dean?”

“Bingo.” Dean is grinning when Castiel lowers his hands and can see clearly. “How you feeling?”

“Dean!” Castiel scrambles to sit up, an actual smile spreading on his lips because _Dean is back_.

The collar of the long-sleeve pulls sharply down his face and Dean’s grin turns into a soft smile. Dean has his phone in his other hand and it makes another beeping noise before he puts it away and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Castiel doesn’t wait to see if anyone else is around before he wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and presses his face into his neck.

Dean laughs again and he hugs Castiel tightly. “It’s good to see you too.”

Castiel drags himself into Dean’s lap, his scales slip-sliding over the sheets until he’s settled and can wrap his tail around Dean’s waist. He rubs his cheek against the side of Dean’s neck and his purr rumbles loudly in his chest.

“Cas, dude, stop! You’re gonna give me stubble burn!” Dean keeps laughing and it’s the best thing Castiel has ever heard.

He holds tighter, turning his head to press his nose under the curve of Dean’s jaw. When Dean’s hands move to his shoulders to push him back, Castiel growls and digs his fingers into the loose folds of the shirt covering Dean’s back. He doesn’t want to let go yet – or ever again.

“C’mon, Cas, just let go for a minute. Pam wants to take a look at you.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. Let him hug you to death first, I can wait.”

“I don’t know, you might want to get in there before they start making out or something.”

Castiel’s back-fans flare under the long-sleeve, tugging it tight across his chest. He honestly hadn’t thought that there was anyone else in the room. It’s a good thing he didn’t start kissing Dean like he sort of wishes he had. Reluctantly, Castiel pulls away. He doesn’t move out of Dean’s lap and he transfers his hands to grip the front of Dean’s shirt instead.

Sam is leaning against the corner of small-sea. Pamela is sitting on a chair next to the bed. She’s watching them with an amused smile on her lips. Dean’s hands settle around Castiel’s waist and he grins at Sam.

“If we were going to make out in front of you, we’d be doing it already. Go on, Pam. Check him out.”

Sam makes a face, but Castiel is watching Pamela. She has the same clear stick with a silver end that Sam had before. He leans against Dean’s chest when she scoots her chair forward and puts her hands on the bottom of the long-sleeve where the big-hole is. Castiel hisses when she lifts it but Dean hushes softly against his side-fan.

Pamela’s hands aren’t exactly cold, but they’re not as warm as Dean’s skin is under his cheek. He lets her put the stick under his arm, like Sam did, and Dean closes his hand over his elbow to pin his arm to his side.

“See? Nothing to worry about. Just give it a few minutes and we’ll take it out again.”

Castiel doesn’t understand nearly half of those words and he wants to make the kin-connection with Dean, almost desperately, but he hasn’t been given Lilith’s permission. She said that he could only make it with Sam. His head doesn’t hurt at all today and it takes very little concentration to reach out and brush his mind against Sam’s.

_(Feeling better?)_ Sam asks, his eyebrow raising when Castiel looks toward him.

_(Much. Thank you. What is the stick?)_

_(It’s a thermometer. It measures your temperature.)_

Castiel tries not to squirm impatiently while Dean drums his fingers against his side. _(Why?)_

_(How much do you remember?)_

He frowns. That’s not an answer to his question. But it could lead to an answer. He shares snatches of his memories, the most recent first – except for when he got the long-sleeves from under Dean’s bed. It’s obvious that he got it, since he’s wearing it now, but he doesn’t want Sam to know that he also looked through the rest of Dean’s drawers.

When he reaches the memory of being sick in small-sea, Sam’s lips press into a thin line and he rubs his face with one hand. _(That was two days ago.)_

Castiel sits back sharply, his fans flaring against the confines of the long-sleeve. _(How is that – but it –)_

“What’s going on?” Dean’s fingers tighten against his arm to keep him from moving it.

“He didn’t know how much time it’s been. I’m telling him what happened over the last few days.” Sam waves his hand dismissively and keeps talking through the kin-connection.

_(You’ve been really sick. After you threw up in the tank and Lilith and I had our shouting match, I guess you fell asleep or something. Lilith wanted you to wake up before she left, but I couldn’t wake you.)_ His face hardens and his knuckles turn white when he curls his hand into a fist. _(She used that fucking demobilizer on you again and you were kind of delirious after that. I wanted to have Pamela check you over then, but Lilith refused and left.)_

Sam starts providing memories and Castiel pays no attention when Pamela removes the thermometer from under his arm. He’s entirely focused on the images playing through his mind of Sam going to Lilith in the middle of the night because Castiel keeps throwing up and there had been blood during the last few. Castiel’s worry doesn’t get the chance to expand as Sam immediately explains that they found out it was only because he had bitten his tongue at some point.

The memories show that they took Castiel from small-sea and moved him to Dean’s bed so Pamela could examine him. That’s when they found out that he had a fever and that he couldn’t stop trembling.

_(If you weren’t sleeping, you were throwing up – or trying to, but you didn’t have anything in you_ to _throw up – or you were fighting us off. You kept calling for Dean and I guess your brothers and sister. You calmed down toward the end of the first day – that’s when the pump woke you. We were trying to suck out all the puke from the water.)_ Sam keeps explaining, keeps showing him with his memories.

After that point, Castiel mostly slept and wasn’t very coherent again until the point where his memories sync with Sam’s – when he had eaten the crackers and Sam spoke with Dean on the phone. That was very early in the morning of the second day. For the rest of the memories, Castiel is sleeping and rarely reacts when Sam, Jess or Pamela check his temperature. He slept nearly the whole day and Castiel thinks that when he got the long-sleeves it was during the night of the second day.

“Well, boys, it looks like Angelfish is good as new. His temp is back to normal and he looks bright eyed and bushy-tailed – so to speak.” Pamela stands and Sam cuts off his explanation in favour of translating her words. “If you’re going to try him on food, I suggest keeping it light. Find out what his kind eat when they’re recovering from being sick and hopefully we’ll have some of that on board. I’d love to stick around and chat, but I’ve got some stitches to stitch. One of the cooks was a dumbass and cut his hand open. The numbing agent should have kicked in by now.”

Castiel reaches out and catches her wrist before she walks away. He looks up at her and gives her a small smile. “Thank you.” She helped him while he was sick and even though he finds it difficult to understand how he lost so much time without realizing it, he’s grateful that she took care of him.

Pamela looks startled for only a second before she breaks into a wide smile and pats him on the arm. “No worries, Angelfish. I’m more than happy to help a friend.”

Dean’s arms circle around his waist and pull him to lean back against his chest. “We’ll see you later?”

She waves over her shoulder as she goes to the door. “Of course. Supper?”

“If you bring it here, sure.”

“Sure thing. I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from Angelfish again.” She grins and gives them a two fingered salute before leaving. “See you later boys!”

Sam steps away from small-sea. _(Is there anything else you want to ask? Or that you want me to tell Dean? I’m pretty hungry and Jess is waiting for me before we get breakfast.)_

Castiel flicks the end of his tail against Dean’s thigh in thought. _(Why did Lilith let Dean come back?)_

_(We don’t know. She didn’t give him any reason. Just showed up at his door an hour ago and told him he could come back. The only thing she did say was that you’re not allowed to make the kin-connection with him yet. But at least he’s not grounded anymore, right?)_

Worry starts churning in his chest and his hands tighten where they rest over Dean’s wrists around his waist. What could Lilith possibly be planning now? It doesn’t make sense that she wants them apart, but is letting Dean come back. And she hasn’t ordered that Castiel be locked back up in small-sea – at least not yet.

_(Thank you, Sam. For taking care of me. Tell Jess too, please. And enjoy your breakfast.)_ Castiel pushes his gratitude through the kin-connection, using it to drown out the anxiety pulsing thick under his skin.

Sam shrugs and sticks his hands in his pockets. _(Like Pam said, anything for a friend. What kind of food do you usually eat after being sick?)_

_(Kelp helps to settle our stomachs. But we keep to smaller portions of meat – mussels or clams – before we’ll try going back to fish or sea-giant meat.)_

_(I’ll see if we’ve got anything like that.)_ He turns to the door. “I’m going to meet up with Jess now. I’ll probably have to go through Lilith to get permission for what Castiel needs, but we’ll bring you back something to eat soon.”

“Thanks Sammy.”

The door beeps when it shuts and Castiel severs the kin-connection with Sam. He doesn’t know what he and Dean are going to do now that they’re alone again. He knows what he would _like_ to do and he doesn’t want to accidentally let anything slip through the kin-connection to Dean’s brother. It is annoying that Castiel won’t really understand most of what Dean says, but he thinks that they will manage somehow.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Dean shifts, squeezing Castiel tight against his chest. “So you’re really feeling better?”

Castiel hums and nods. This question is one he understands. “Yes, Dean. Not hurt.”

“Good. It sucked balls being stuck in my room. I was worried out of my mind and I wanted to come and take care of you, but they wouldn’t let me. I had to settle for updates from Sam and I could hear you whenever I called and I hated it. I really, actually, _hated_ it.” Dean presses his face to Castiel’s neck and he tilts his head to give him room. “You probably didn’t understand that and I guess that’s kind of a good thing because now I’m just ranting like a whiny little girl –“

Dean cuts off and Castiel hums again. He doesn’t know what Dean is talking about, but it’s nice to have him here. They’re quiet for a few more minutes before Dean lifts his hand and plucks at the long-sleeves where it rests over Castiel’s chest.

“Gotta say, I really wasn’t expecting to find you wearing my sweater.” His breath is warm over Castiel’s side-fan when he speaks. “You look good in my shirt. I like it.”

“Warm.” Castiel murmurs and an entirely different kind of shiver trips down his spine when Dean presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

His fingers spread against Castiel’s chest and slide up to brush under his jaw and turn his head so Dean can place a kiss at the base of his side-fan. “I wanna kiss you real bad, Cas.”

Dean rubs his thumb along Castiel’s jaw and he can feel it dragging against his stubble. He knows a lot of  those words, Dean has said things like them to him before and he nods. He wants that too. Castiel turns in his lap and Dean starts pressing kisses along his jaw, smiling against his skin.

“Brush your teeth first.”


	19. Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the very back of his mind, there’s a small burn of jealousy that Dean will get to keep something tangible like the pictures when Castiel is gone. Castiel will have nothing but his memories and he knows he’ll never forget them, but it won’t be the same and he envies Dean for having something like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **THIS IS THE CHAPTER WHERE I START TO EARN MY 'EXPLICIT' RATING**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, fpwoper, victorianpantaloons, rubysrockette, allonsyassbutts, days-of-dust, glowing orange, quallian42, epiphanywisps, alphamishka1508, arisprite, apentomyheadandimdead, iramblez.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel brushes his teeth as quickly as he can, scrubbing his tongue and rinsing at Dean’s prompting. It has been days since he last got to touch and taste Dean and he doesn’t want to waste another moment. Neither of them know how long they have before someone comes to interrupt, or before Lilith shows up again. They have no idea what she’s planning with letting Dean come back and Castiel wants to take full advantage of their brief time alone.

Dean, however, doesn’t seem to have the same idea – much to Castiel’s ire. After taking away the toothbrush and the bucket that Castiel spat into, Dean gets a different bucket – the one always used to hold water – and fills it in small-sea. Castiel glowers at him from the bed, shifting to sit on the curl of his tail with his hands hidden in the sleeves of the shirt he still wears. His fingers flex within them.

He wants to kiss Dean, to taste his tongue and skin. He wants to test the give of Dean’s skin under his newly blunt nails and wrap him in his tail, to press him to the bed and renew the marks he placed on him days ago. The one on his throat is already starting to fade and Castiel needs to fix that. He doesn’t want to waste what little time they have with the dampening of his scales and fans.

“Don’t look at me like that, Cas.” Dean smiles as he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the bucket at his feet. The cup is floating in it already. “I bet it’s been hours since you soaked up last and as much as I want to, I can’t do anything with you knowing that you’re going to be uncomfortable.”

Dean keeps saying words Castiel doesn’t know and it’s frustrating. He’s itching to stretch out his touch with both body and mind. He wants to feel Dean’s heat under his hand and have his emotions in his head. It’s infuriating not to have either when he can certainly have at least one right now.

“Dean.” Castiel says his name firmly, reaching for his arm.

He catches Castiel’s hand, still covered in the sleeve, and looks down at it. A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth and Castiel makes a pleased noise as Dean tugs him closer. His eyes slide closed when Dean’s other hand settles over his gills and guides him in for the first kiss he’s had in days. It’s wonderful in that he gets to kiss Dean again.  It’s disappointing in that Dean keeps it as nothing more than a gentle press of their lips.

Castiel whines when Dean draws away. He uncurls and slides closer, scales slipping over the sheets as he presses against Dean’s side. With a hand on the back of his neck, he forcefully pulls Dean back into another kiss. Dean’s soft laugh changes into an exhalation of surprise when Castiel catches his bottom lip between his teeth as gently as he can. He lets it go with a light drag over the sensitive skin and Castiel almost grins in triumph as Dean’s hold on his hand grows tight.

“Shit, you learn fast.” Dean murmurs against his lips and then there are no more words.

He opens willingly under the insistent push of Dean’s tongue and he twines his arms around his shoulders. Castiel folds back against the bed when Dean presses against him. His hands are warm on Castiel’s stomach and hips as they push up the bottom of the shirt. He arches into the touch with a pleased purr, pushing into Dean’s palms as his tail makes arcs across the bedding.

Dean leans over him, hands sliding up his sides and around to his back. He moves from Castiel’s mouth and over the stubbled lines of his jaw. For a moment, as heat courses under his skin in pulsing waves to curl hot in his belly, Castiel thinks that the fever has returned. He forgets about it completely when Dean’s lips find the mark he left over his pulse and he flattens his tongue against it.

The collar around Castiel’s neck makes a quiet clinking noise when he arches again, tilting his head back. Dean drags his nails along Castiel’s sides, scraping lightly over his glow-lines. It sends shivers rippling through Castiel’s bones and he digs his fingers between Dean’s shoulders. Dean grins against his neck and does it again. Castiel bites his lip to stifle a groan. He pouts at Dean when he pushes up to sit over Castiel’s hips. Dean carefully arranges Castiel’s adipose fins so they aren’t pinned uncomfortably by his knees.

“Up, Cas.” Dean tugs at his arms and he leans in to kiss Castiel the moment he sits up.

Dean’s hands find his sides under the shirt again, but this time they slide around to press gently against the bottom most spines of his back-fans. The hard edge of the blue-white cast presses in wherever his left hand moves, but Castiel doesn’t mind. Dean is careful with making sure that the shirt doesn’t catch as he works it up Castiel’s back. Slowly, Dean pulls Castiel’s arms through the sleeves until the shirt is resting only on his shoulders. Carefully, he holds the collar open while working it over Castiel’s head and his side-fans.

Castiel shivers at the cool air of the room and then Dean’s hands are back on him and smoothing down his shoulders, his arms and over his chest. He leans into the touch and sinks his fingers into the short hairs at the back of Dean’s head as he pulls him back into a kiss. Dean sucks lightly at his bottom lip and tongue and Castiel groans. But then Dean is leaning away and Castiel growls, tightening his hold to try and keep him in place.

“Wait, Cas. Just a minute.” Dean takes his wrists and pulls his hands away. “I just gotta do something.”

He glares as Dean slides from the bed and quickly goes to the door. Castiel didn’t hear the door beep and there was no knocking. He doesn’t understand what Dean could possibly have to do at the door until Dean slides the lock into place. As he comes back to the bed, Castiel decides that Dean is wearing too much clothing.

He points at Dean’s shirts. “No.”

Dean hesitates only a moment before he pulls off his shirts and leaves them in a pile on the floor. He kicks off his boots and socks too and then spreads his arms, eyebrows raised as if seeking approval.  Castiel regards him thoughtfully before pointing at his pants too. He wants all the heat of Dean that he can get and the jeans will only keep that from him.

The jeans get added to the pile of clothing. Dean is left in only his undershorts as he leans over and pulls Castiel’s tail around until it hangs over the edge of the bed.

“Dean?” Castiel tilts his head and watches curiously as Dean drops to his knees before him.

“You’re too dry, Cas.” Dean pulls the bucket closer with one hand, the other tracing over his tail and arranging it so that the end is curled in his lap and his legs are covered by the round adipose of Castiel’s end-fans. “If we’re doing anything, you’re going to be soaked up first.”

Castiel wants to object, but the first splash of water over the scales at the end of his tail feels amazing. Dean works the water into the webbing of his end-fans before scooping more water in the cup and pouring it higher up. He leans forward and presses a kiss to the bend of Castiel’s tail where it curves over the edge of the bed. Castiel sucks in a sharp breath and digs his fingers into the sheets as Dean covers his tail in soft kisses and water, his tongue tracing the spotted design of his glow pattern.

The higher he moves, the faster Castiel’s breath comes. His knuckles are turning white where he’s holding the bed. Dean is getting closer and closer to Castiel’s sheath and the heat pooling in his stomach is boiling under his skin and the muscles of his sheath could start twitching and contracting at any moment. And he’s not sure if that’s something he’s ready for, even though he wants Dean – mother-sea, he wants Dean in any way Dean will let him have him – he’s just not sure if he could take Dean’s touch on that part of him now knowing that if he ever gets his freedom he’ll never have that touch again.

But Dean moves to the side, following a swirl of colour to the adipose fin along the side of his tail. He traces the seam of fin and scale to Castiel’s hip. The bucket is half empty and he has to pull away every time he needs to fill the cup with water. Castiel lets go of the sheets and leans back on his hands to bare his stomach and chest to Dean’s lips.

Dean grins up at him before dragging his tongue down the center of Castiel’s stomach – paying special attention to the flat plane above the fusion of skin and scale. Castiel stifles a laugh. The touch is a little ticklish and he thinks Dean may be fascinated by the space where Castiel has no bellybutton.

Once he’s finished with his tail, Dean moves to sit on the edge of the bed with one leg folded under him. Castiel turns to face him and Dean allows only one teasing kiss before he pushes at his shoulder to make him turn and present his back to him. Castiel pouts, pulling his tail up to curl under him. He flexes his back-fans, flicking them at Dean, and smirks over his shoulder when Dean gives a startled grunt. Serves him right for keeping his kisses from him.

Castiel leans into Dean’s hands when they start to work the water into his back-fans. He’s surprised by the press of lips at the back of his neck and a startled noise escapes him when teeth scrape over his skin. It’s getting hard to think again, but it’s nothing like the fever fog. He licks his lips and all Castiel tastes is the mint of the toothpaste and Dean.

When Dean’s mouth closes over the end of one of his top-spines, Castiel can’t stop the quiet moan that sounds low in his throat. He arches his back into the touch of Dean’s fingers and he tries to hold his back-fans as still as possible while Dean licks at the spines and sucks experimentally at the webbing. No one has ever touched his back-fans like this and Castiel had no idea they could feel like this.

Dean presses his back-fans down and Castiel’s side-fans flare in surprise as Dean lifts him into his lap. Castiel despises not being able to touch Dean properly while he’s facing away, but Dean won’t let him turn as he touches lightly at Castiel’s chin to tilt his head to the side. Warm lips and a wet tongue press over his gills and along the bottom of his side-fan and Castiel suppresses shivers at the gentle press of teeth to the soft skin just below.

Water drips over his neck and shoulders as Dean wets his side-fans. Castiel purrs when he gently rubs the webbing between the spines and he turns his face into Dean’s fingers when they trace the lines of scales along his cheekbone.

Dean smiles against the side of his neck. “You’re gorgeous, y’know that? I thought it from the first moment I saw you, but I never thought I’d get to have you like this.”

Castiel doesn’t know what he’s saying, but he hums anyway. He likes the sound of Dean’s voice and he wants to listen to it more. Dean slides his hands down Castiel’s neck, pausing briefly at the collar. He can feel how Dean’s body tenses as he traces the braided blue rope before dropping his hands to press warm palms to Castiel’s chest.

“The first time you made your mind-meld link with me, I was scared shitless. And now I actually fuckin’ miss it. I want you in my head again. I want to know how okay you are with what I’m doing.” Dean keeps talking as his fingers slide over Castiel’s skin. He’s carefully avoiding his nipples and it’s frustrating because Castiel wants him to touch there. “It’s weird that it’s been, like, two weeks and I’m already really gonna hate when we have to say goodbye.” His voice drops into a whisper. “I don’t want to.”

Dean’s voice has gotten softer, more sulking. Castiel doesn’t like him sounding like that. He wants Dean to be happy and smiling. And he really wants Dean to make those noises he did when Castiel was making Pamela’s marks his own. The urge to have Dean make those sounds again starts itching under his skin and Castiel wants to hear them and to taste Dean’s skin, more than he wants Dean’s touch.

Castiel turns sharply, dislodging Dean’s arms from around him. Dean looks at him curiously as he turns around and Castiel catches the dregs of sadness on his face. He hates that Dean was looking like that, that Dean could ever have that expression. He slides out from the space between Dean’s folded leg and folds his tail under him, sitting on the bend of it. Castiel pulls at Dean’s folded leg.

“Move.” Castiel points toward the middle of the bed. “Dean, move please.”

The arch of one eyebrow is his only response before Dean shuffles over, sliding to sit where Castiel indicated. He appraises the position and then shakes his head. It’s not good enough. Castiel wants like they were before Lilith came back.

He reaches out and pushes at Dean’s shoulders. “Please.”

The other eyebrow raises too and Dean grins. “If you wanted me on my back, Cas, you should’ve just said so.” He flops back on the bed and tucks his hands behind his head.

Dean stretches out across the sheets in a luxurious roll of muscle and skin and Castiel’s adipose-fins ripple in surprise as his mouth goes dry. He licks his lips and ignores the knowing grin on Dean’s face as he adverts his eyes in a glance down Dean’s body to his feet. Castiel doesn’t know where to start. He wants to taste all of Dean and there are so many places he hasn’t touched yet. There are so many parts of Dean that are foreign to him and they’re all intriguing. Castiel wants to see them all.

He starts with his feet. Dean makes a curious noise when Castiel turns away and pulls himself down the bed. Castiel lifts one of Dean’s legs and situates himself between them, resting his foot in his lap. He looks up when Dean props himself up on his elbows to watch. His fingers drag curiously over and between Dean’s toes and Castiel closely watches how they bend and spread. Dean laughs when Castiel’s touch moves over the bottom of his foot and his whole leg jerks.

“Dude, don’t. That tickles.”

Castiel looks at him again, head tilted, as he runs one finger down the length of Dean’s foot in a lazy swirling pattern. He holds Dean’s leg in place with a firm hand on his ankle as Dean laughs more, squirming and trying to pull his leg free. Castiel’s fins ripple with his pleasure. Dean is ticklish and it’s an easy way to make him laugh. He especially likes Dean’s laughter and he does it again and again until Dean is twisted onto his side and he’s hugging his stomach.

Dean pushes at his shoulder with his other foot until Castiel finally lets go. He collapses with a laughing sigh and it takes several moments of deep breaths before Dean manages to open his eyes. Castiel grins at him and he shuffles his back-fans and the webbing between them, pleased with himself for making Dean laugh.

“With great power comes great responsibility. Use your knowledge wisely, Cas, coz’ the moment I find your ticklish spots, I’m going to make you pay for that.” Dean nudges at him with his foot once more before he rolls onto his back again. “God, I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

Castiel lifts his leg again and Dean looks down at him sharply. This time, Castiel makes Dean’s foot move. He gently guides it to bend back and forth, checking all the different ways that it can move. Dean watches him closely as Castiel runs one hand up the underside of his calf, squeezing lightly to feel the muscles beneath the skin. He notes that humans have hair on their legs too.

When Castiel dips his head to press his lips to the top of his foot, Dean takes in a sharp breath. “You shouldn’t –”

His words are ignored as Castiel kisses his biggest toe, and then the next. When his tongue dips between them, Dean makes a startled noise and his whole leg tenses. But he doesn’t try to pull it away like he did when Castiel was tickling him. Dean’s feet smell different from his neck and his chest where Castiel usually breathes his scent. It’s a sharper smell, but he doesn’t mind it.

When he looks up at Dean again, his face is flushed and he’s watching Castiel closely. His fingers curl into the sheets when Castiel closes his lips around his big toe and a shiver shakes through Dean when he sucks lightly. He leaves Dean’s toes to kiss and lick at the hard protrusions at his ankle before moving up his leg. Castiel tastes the crease behind his knee and grazes his teeth lightly over the top of it before he places that leg back on the bed and turns to the other.

Dean makes a similar noise of surprise when Castiel starts the process over again, minus the tickling. And when Castiel looks up at him again, Dean is laying back on the bed with both his arms folded over his face.

Castiel reaches his knee again and stops. “Dean?”

Worry knots itself behind his sternum. Did he do something wrong? Was this something Dean didn’t like? Why didn’t he stop him then?

Dean’s arms part. The flush of his cheeks has spread to his neck and there’s heat behind his eyes when he looks down at him. “It’s okay, Cas. That was just… No one’s ever done that before. It was weird, but a good weird. It’s okay, really.”

Castiel lets out a soft sigh, a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, and nods. “Okay.”

He bends forward to press a kiss to the inside of Dean’s thigh. Castiel barely brushes the skin before Dean is sitting up and his hands are blocking him from continuing. He sits back, confused, when Dean tells him to stop.

“This would be easier if you were in my head, Cas. Then you’d understand me when I say that you’re getting into territory I don’t know if you’re ready for or not.” Dean shifts and it’s because he doesn’t look uncomfortable that Castiel is confused. “God knows I’m all for it, but if you don’t know human implications about what you’re doing – It’s just –” He sighs, looking frustrated. “I don’t want you to do anything that you’re not actually sure is what you’re doing.”

When Castiel tilts his head, brow furrowed in confusion, Dean sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Fuck, you don’t even understand what I’m saying. Hell, I’m not even sure of what I’m saying.”

Frustration starts eating away at the heat pulsing under Castiel’s skin. He wants to be able to talk to Dean. As much as he likes hearing his voice, it’s annoying to not know what the words he is speaking actually mean. Castiel wants the kin-connection with Dean. He’s craving it almost as badly as he longs for the sea and his family. He could make it now, easily. But what if Lilith has found some way to know when he does?

He won’t know unless he tries. And, mother-sea help him, he wants Dean’s mind again. Castiel wants his foreign thoughts and his strange words. He wants Dean’s emotions and the vivid images he shares. He wants it all. Lilith will always have new reasons to hurt him and he can’t let her take Dean from him. Not like this. She’s taken Dean from him bodily for days now, but she can’t take his mind.

And Castiel is certain that she has no way of knowing when the kin-connection is made when she isn’t present. Dean had given it away before, but this time she isn’t here to see the change in his demeanor.

Castiel bites at his bottom lip and immediately Dean presses at his lips with his thumb. “Don’t do that, Cas. You’ll wreck your lips with those teeth of yours.”

He doesn’t understand that either and Castiel’s patience with their more than stilted communication reaches its limit. Castiel braces himself for the pain, or for Lilith’s rage – should she somehow make her presence known now – and reaches for Dean’s mind. The moment he touches his thoughts, Dean stiffens and his eyes go wide. The relief that floods the link far outweighs the surprise and it’s only moments before Dean sags forward and kisses Castiel roughly.

_(Fuck, I missed this.)_

A purr rumbles loudly, high in Castiel’s chest, and he leans into the hands cupping his face. He lets his ebbing frustration filter into the kin-connection, even as it gives way to satisfaction at defying Lilith’s orders and getting away with it. _(Me too. But you should still speak with your throat-voice as if we aren’t talking. Just in case.)_ A very small amount of his desire to hear Dean’s voice slips into the link.

_(Good plan.)_ Dean grins into the kiss and he slides his touch down one of Castiel’s arms to take his hand. This time, when he speaks between their kisses, the words are in his head too and it’s a relief to have their translation. “Humans are more careful about here –” He guides Castiel’s hand to his inner thigh where he had placed that brief kiss. “– for a whole bunch of reasons. First and foremost though, is because of how close it is to here.”

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath against Dean’s mouth when he gently moves Castiel’s hand to the front of his underpants. He recognizes the hardness pressing into his palm as Dean’s erection. Castiel was aware that Dean was feeling pleasure, but he didn’t know to what extent Dean’s arousal had gone. It suddenly feels like there’s no air left in his lungs, and yet his chest feels too full. His fans spread in surprise and his adipose fins ripple wildly before he breaks their kiss to look down.

The kin-connection vibrates with Dean’s emotions. His thoughts are nervous and lined with a quiet concern as he probes the sudden silence in Castiel’s mind. He immediately lets go and it is only Castiel who is keeping his hand in place.

_(Cas?)_ Dean’s nervousness is giving way to worry the longer Castiel does nothing. _(I didn’t know if you were ready or not and I just took a leap coz’ you were doing all that stuff with my legs and I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything like this if you don’t want to. We can keep to just kissing, or we don’t have to do anything at all, we can just lay here and tal–)_

Dean’s thoughts cut out when Castiel flexes his fingers. He stifles a soft ‘Oh!’ and his hips give an aborted twitch. Something like a battle-calm is settling in Castiel’s bones even though his thoughts keep wanting to race ahead and dredge up every insecurity he has about the future. He wants Dean, but he’s terrified of never getting to have him again.

For the first time in several days, a voice that sounds a lot like one of his nest-siblings rises in the back of his mind. It sounds like Anna and he thinks that it might be something she told him once a very long time ago. It reminds him about love and loss and regret. It reminds him to never leave anything unspoken or undone when you might never get the chance to say it or do it again. And then a voice like Gabriel’s, and another like Balthazar’s chimes in, telling him to live in the moment because the future has yet to come.

Castiel is always so cautious, so careful. He’s kept himself closed off and protected for so long because it’s what he was taught to do. Warriors shouldn’t let their emotions control them. They should be hard and strong and composed. Michael and Lucifer had taught him well that it’s alright to mate, to father a nest or find a bond-mate, but you should still always be on guard like a good soldier always is. And yet he still let Dean in. Dean found his way past all of Castiel’s defenses without him realizing it and now… Now Castiel doesn’t want to deny himself anymore. He doesn’t want to deny the desire crawling under his scales or the heat still singing through his veins.

Dean gives another quiet startled noise when Castiel turns his hand and gently, curiously, feels out the length hidden under the last piece of clothing he wears. His scent is changing. It’s getting deeper, darker and when Castiel presses his nose to the space below Dean’s ear, it’s strong enough to wipe out any indecision left in him.

“Are you sure?” Dean’s voice is barely a whisper and it ghosts over his side-fan, the soft wash of air making it twitch.

“Yes.” Castiel mumbles against Dean’s skin as he presses a kiss to the curve where neck meets shoulder. _(Show me what to do.)_

Dean groans and his hips move again, pressing his erection more firmly into Castiel’s hand. _(I want to – can I – is it okay to touch you too?)_

Castiel sits back, withdrawing his hand for the moment. It hadn’t occurred to him yet that Dean would want to touch him too. All of his thoughts had been focused on getting to touch and taste Dean. When he can see Dean’s face again, he’s surprised by the open, earnest expression he wears. Dean’s excitement and anticipation are warring in the kin-connection with his nervousness that Castiel might say ‘no’.

He’s been fighting with his arousal since –since when Dean pressed him back into the bed? Before? After? He’s not even sure. It’s been hard to stave off the lava that sears his belly and makes the muscles of his sheath want to contract. Castiel is already getting hard in his sheath just thinking about what Dean’s fingers would feel like on the place he’s never even truly touched himself.

The longer Castiel doesn’t respond the more anxious Dean gets and he starts to fidget, his fingers pulling at the edges of his underpants where they wrap around his thighs. _(If you’re not ready for that, I totally understand. I don’t have to – I can wait, Cas. Seriously. Forget I asked.)_

_(No.)_

He can feel the walls going up around Dean’s mind to keep him from feeling the flood of disappointment. Castiel frowns and shakes his head as he twists his tail forward until he’s sitting between the fold of Dean’s legs, his tail draped over one. He hooks it back under, wrapping around the leg. There is plenty of room left between them so that he can freely touch Dean, but not so far that he can’t lean forward and kiss him easily.

Castiel takes Dean’s right hand and he only hesitates slightly before placing it over his sheath. _(I didn’t mean ‘no, you can’t’. I meant ‘no, I won’t forget you asked’.)_

The walls around Dean’s mind fall before they’re even finished being built. His awe and delight wash brightly through the kin-connection as he presses the heel of his palm from the base of the sheath to the top, Castiel’s hand still resting over his. The grin he gives Castiel is full of teeth and it forms crinkles at the edges of his eyes. Something hot and cold shakes down Castiel’s spine and it leaves him breathless.

Dean leans in and Castiel meets him for a kiss that is far softer than he expected it to be. He repeats the motion with his hand and Castiel’s adipose fins ripple where they aren’t pressed to the bed or trapped in place by Dean’s leg. The hot press of Dean’s hand against just his sheath is maddening and he lets his control slip even more.

“You can tell me to–” Dean speaks whenever he pulls back to catch a breath before pressing in for another kiss. “–stop at any time.” Every breath is nothing more than a few quick gasps. “If you start to feel uncomfortable.”

_(I won’t.)_ Castiel assures him, placing his free hand over Dean’s erection again. _(I want this. I want you.)_

Dean makes a strangled, desperate noise in the back of his throat and his kisses turn more rough and insistent. Castiel pulls away from them with a soft cry, his lips tingling, when Dean’s fingertips press lightly against the slit at the head of his sheath. His back-fans flex in surprise, only to be held down by Dean’s left arm as he rests his fingers over Castiel’s opposite hip.

“Do ya like that?” Dean is smiling and Castiel likes it when he smiles, but he’s very distracted with the slight tremors that shake through him as Dean traces the edges of the slit. “Are you that sensitive here, Cas?”

Castiel is having trouble breathing against the heat flooding his body and swirling through him in a vicious storm. He dreamed of this once, of Dean touching him like this. The memories are broken and barely there, as is the course with dreams, but Castiel remembers how in the dream the sensations of Dean’s touch had been dulled because there was no experience to draw from. Now Castiel knows and it’s making him lose focus on everything else.

“C’mon, Cas.” Dean presses kisses to the scales on his cheeks and to his side-fan. “Let go. This –” He punctuates his point by pressing his thumb firmly against the slit and making Castiel’s whole body twitch. “– doesn’t even hold a match to what it’ll feel like when I touch you properly.”

He finds that hard to believe. Especially when he thinks he could reach completion just from these gentle touches alone. They’re burning through him and he can feel how rapidly he is hardening in his sheath. Castiel can’t even gather himself to concentrate on giving Dean the same kind of pleasure. His hand rests heavily over Dean’s erection, unmoving except for the twitching of his fingers with every pulse of pleasure that courses through his veins at Dean’s touch.

Dean moves his left arm and Castiel nearly collapses backwards, unaware of just how much it had been supporting him. He moves Castiel’s hand and shushes him when a keening noise manages its way past his lips. Castiel jerks his wrist from Dean’s hold and presses his hand back down over his erection. He slides his palm over him like Dean did to him and Dean’s hips rock forward a few times before he grabs Castiel’s hand again and forces it away.

“We’ll get to me eventually, don’t you worry about that.” Dean grins as he tries to lift his hand from his sheath and Castiel hisses unhappily, pushing his palm back against his scales. “I want to take care of you right now, Cas. Let me take care of you.”

Begrudgingly, Castiel lets go of Dean’s hand and he’s unsuccessful in his attempt to not glare at him as Dean shiftes them around. Castiel ends up on his back, head on the pillow and his tail twisting unhappily over the bed. Dean is kneeling next to him and he bats Castiel’s hands away whenever he reaches for him.

_(_ Dean _. I want to touch you.)_ Castiel growls and tries to sit up, only to be pushed back down.

“In a minute, Cas. I wanna see you glow.”

Castiel whines when Dean actually gets up from the bed. He scowls at Dean’s back as he starts rooting around in his pile of clothing. It’s not fair that he touched Castiel like that, made him feel like that, only to stop. Briefly, Castiel wonders if his own fingers would feel as good. He bites his bottom lip and slides his hands over his stomach.

Would Dean be upset if Castiel tried touching himself too? The more he thinks about it, the more he doubts that he would be. Castiel can easily recall that fleeting moment he had seen Dean in the shower, his hand sliding over his erection in short, quick jerks. The memory makes his blood boil and Castiel wants to do that to him too, to see if Dean feels different there. He stifles a groan and presses one hand over his mouth.

Dean stands, but he’s focused on his phone and his walk to the door is distracted. Castiel watches him closely and slowly slides the hand still on his stomach down. He feels where skin gives way to scales and it’s just a hand span below that where he finds the swell of muscle that forms his sheath. The muscles are twitching under his scales and Castiel purposefully avoids the opening at the top to just feel the trembling.

He thinks he might be fully hard under his scales and it’s just the last of his control that’s keeping him sheathed. Castiel twitches when his thumb brushes over the slit and he muffles another noise against the back of his hand. Castiel glances down and his breath hitches. The slit is slowly widening and it might only be a few minutes more before he’s unsheathed.

Castiel traces the edge of the slit with his thumb and his adipose fins ripple violently at the sensation. It doesn’t feel nearly as good as when Dean does it, but it still sends feelings like the bright-bolts of the stormy steady-blue dancing along his spine. He keeps pressing and tracing with his fingers in light touches and it makes him tremble. Castiel closes his eyes and tilts his head back into the pillow, arching into the feeling.

He barely notices when the lights dim down and his glow starts to return. But Castiel does notice the sharp intake of breath at the drawer end of the bed and the surprise that burns hard and quick through the kin-connection only to be swallowed by a swirling surge of arousal.

“Holy shit, Cas…” Dean breathes and when Castiel looks at him, Dean is staring down at him with wide-eyes. _(Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me?)_

“Please, Dean.” Castiel muffles a whimper against his hand before he reaches for him. _(It doesn’t feel the same when I do it.)_

_(It never does.)_ Dean puts one knee on the bed and his phone is still in his hand. _(You really haven’t touched yourself before, huh?)_

Castiel shakes his head. _(I didn’t see the point. Dean,_ please _.)_

Dean hesitates, one hand dropping to ghost over the scales at the end of his tail as he rolls his phone in his other. There’s a melancholy edge forming in the kin-connection and Castiel doesn’t understand it. Is he doing something wrong to make Dean feel like that? Does Dean not like Castiel touching himself like this? It’s a monumental effort of will to stop his fingers and move his hand away.

_(Don’t stop, Cas.)_ Dean crawls further onto the bed, swinging one leg over Castiel’s tail and settling his weight near the middle of it. He grins lewdly, but that gloomy feeling doesn’t leave his thoughts. _(I wanna see you touch yourself.)_

Castiel bites at his bottom lip again and he slides his hand back over his hip to touch lightly at his slit. He can feel his blood heating his face and he’s surprised his skin isn’t glowing red hot with how it feels like his insides are boiling. The glow pattern on his tail is lighting parts of Dean where the shadows don’t reach and Castiel feels a pulse of possession at seeing Dean’s skin lit by the light of his glow.

Dean’s hips are rocking slightly against his tail and Castiel can feel the hard line of his erection through the underpants he’s still wearing. One hand is pressed to Castiel’s tail in front of him, his thumb brushing back and forth over one of the lines of his glow pattern.

There is a hesitation to his thoughts, and he glances up from watching Castiel’s fingers. “Can I take a picture of you like this?” His next thoughts are false and wrong in a defensive way that Castiel can’t focus enough to figure out. _(It’s your first time, right? We should document it.)_

_(You’re lying.)_ Castiel is panting and this isn’t want he wants to talk about right now, but Dean is lying to him and he can’t figure it out on his own. _(Why?)_

Dean stills and he looks down at his phone. He’s starting to withdraw from the kin-connection and it sends a flare of panic through Castiel’s chest. He sits up quickly, startling Dean. _(Don’t, please don’t. I don’t want to lose the kin-connection with you again so soon. Please –)_

_(Calm down, Cas. I’m not gonna do that. I missed this too. It’s just…)_ Dean shifts and then he makes an irritated noise. _(I don’t like talking about feelings, okay? Especially not when we’re like this.)_ He gestures between Castiel’s sheath and the front of his underpants. _(Can this be something we just forget I asked about? It’s stupid and unimportant.)_

_(No, it’s not. If it was then you wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.)_ Castiel struggles against the heat and arousal pulsing under his skin, fighting it back so he can focus. He pulls the depressed edge of Dean’s thoughts into the center of the kin-connection and pushes it back at him, lined with his own curiosity.

Dean flinches and frowns down at his lap as a frustrated resignation settles over his thoughts. _(It’s… I don’t do ‘special’. Not after Cassie – my ex-fiancée. I was all set to marry her and then the shit with Sam and the drugs happened and I ended up in prison. She said she couldn’t deal with all the fucking drama in my family or something and broke up with me. It hurt. She was part of my family by then and she… left me. So I just, I don’t let people get that close anymore and you –)_

His shoulders hunch and his emotions are a storm that spike through the kin-connection hard enough to make Castiel wince. _(– but you just slipped right past all of that. You’re so fucking_ different _and I just… I want something I can remember you by when you’re gone. Sam and Jess have lots of pictures they took of you that I can look at, but they don’t get to see you like this.)_

Something hard and dark – something remarkably close to the same feeling of possession that Castiel has at how Dean’s skin glows with Castiel’s light, or when he looks at the fading marks on his chest – overtakes all the frustration and upset in Dean’s mind. He puts his hand over Castiel’s sheath, his fingertips curling to rub against the slit. It sends shivering bolts shaking through Castiel’s bones and his fans spread sharply, extending to their full height with an audible snap. He fights to keep from being overwhelmed by the sensation prickling under his skin again. Dean takes Castiel’s hand and places it over his own erection. Castiel flexes his fingers and finds Dean’s underpants strangely damp in places.

_(This is for me. Not them, not Lilith, not Alistair, or Gordon, or anyone else. This is just you and me. And I don’t want to forget_ this _, okay? I just don’t.)_

Castiel folds the end of his tail up and fits it along Dean’s spine. With how Dean is sitting, the tip barely reaches his shoulder blades. He spreads the adipose of his end-fans across Dean’s back and it’s the closest he can get to wrapping Dean in his tail. He doesn’t know what to say, but something hot and fluttery is filling his chest and his lungs and he thinks it might be joy. Dean’s admission has made Castiel happy and he doesn’t stop that feeling from surging through the kin-connection.

At the very back of his mind, there’s a small burn of jealousy that Dean will get to keep something tangible like the pictures when Castiel is gone. Castiel will have nothing but his memories and he knows he’ll never forget them, but it won’t be the same and he envies Dean for having something like that.

The very end of his tail twitches back and forth over Dean’s spine in a tiny caress. _(Take your pictures, Dean. As many as you want. I would never deny you that.)_ He’s not even angry that Dean attempted a lie instead of simply telling him the truth to start with.

Dean’s relief flutters along the edge of his mind and he leans in to kiss Castiel in a quick press and a darting lick at his lips. It’s a soft touch at his shoulders that has him folding his back-fans down and laying back against the pillow. Dean is grinning at Castiel and his elation sparks through the kin-connection in pleasing bursts.

Castiel keeps his flicker of disappointment from the kin-connection when Dean removes his hand so he can fiddle with his phone for a few moments before setting it on the drawers behind him. He rearranges their position so Castiel is laying diagonally across the bed from corner to corner instead of from top to bottom and then Dean moves farther up his tail and his hand is back.

He keeps sliding one finger over Castiel’s slit and he leans forward to look at it. “You opening up for me, Cas? Gonna show me how you glow here too?”

Castiel has only a moment to marvel at how quickly Dean can switch currents before the very end of Dean’s finger presses into his slit, teasing against the sensitive inside edges. He is wholly unprepared for the pleasure that burns through him at that small touch and his back arches from the bed, matched by the strangled moan that spills unheeded into the air. He claws at the sheets for something to hold onto.

Dean grabs one of his hands and replaces his own with it. “Why don’t you give that a try?” He sits back, leaving Castiel’s fingers as the only ones touching him.

When he says Dean’s name, it sounds like a sulking whine and Castiel doesn’t care. It’s not _his_ hand or _his_ touch that he wants. It’s Dean’s, only Dean’s. He pushes that desire through the kin-connection. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if to steady himself, before looking back up at Castiel.

_(Should I show you why I want to see you touch yourself?)_

Castiel nods and presses the end of his tail harder against Dean’s skin. With Dean sitting closer to his sheath, he can fit more of his tail to Dean’s back and the end is now hooked slightly over his shoulder. His adipose fins ripple in anticipation and he watches closely as Dean moves around until he’s leaning back more heavily against his tail.

It doesn’t take much effort for Castiel to support his weight as Dean puts his legs in front of him instead of kneeling. His knees are in the air now and his feet are planted on the bed by Castiel’s hips. Dean reaches behind him to the drawers and takes out the bottle Castiel had tried to open last night. He leaves it laying on the bed and is careful to not step on Castiel’s adipose fins as he wiggles out of his underpants. Dean removes them one leg at a time before tossing them to the floor.

Dean wastes no time and Castiel doesn’t get the chance to be fascinated by the colour or shape or the differences between a human’s penis and a fin-kin’s. He sits up with the bottle in his hand and flicks open the top with an envious ease. A small amount of clear jelly gets squeezed out into his palm and then the bottle is abandoned next to him again.

The moment Dean puts his hand on himself, hissing quietly at the first touch of his jelly-covered hand, Castiel forgets how to breathe. He watches with wide eyes as Dean spreads the jelly over his erection before he falls into a steady sliding rhythm. Dean leans back again, stretching out his stomach and chest while his legs spread wider.

Another grin is pulling at his lips, unbothered by the hitching breaths that disrupt his normal breathing every time he twists his hand over the head of his erection. Castiel finally takes a long, shaky breath, when Dean brings up his other hand to curl his fingers around and under the rounded sac hanging beneath his penis.

“Do you understand now, Cas?” Dean murmurs as his hips twitch when he slides his thumb over the head of his penis. “You understand now why I wanna see you touch yourself?”

Castiel swallows thickly and nods. He knows he’s staring, but he can’t bring himself to look away. His fingers shake as he blindly gropes over his stomach to press at his slit. He pushes the tip of his finger into the rapidly widening opening and the zigzagging pleasure that sends his adipose fins rippling is almost enough to make him close his eyes.

But he can’t. Not when Dean keeps touching himself and he’s so close that if Castiel just sat up a little, he could reach him. He could touch Dean and feel with his hands the difference in his skin and his heat and –

He hisses in surprise and jerks his hands away from his sheath when he feels something press up against his fingertip. There’s no ache, or pressure, or anything but the tensing of his muscles that mark the unsheathing of his penis. The cool room air is a startling difference on the heated, sensitive skin and Castiel presses both his hands to his mouth to muffle the little surprised ‘oh!’s that keep escaping him.

Dean stops everything he’s doing and leans forward, staring down at Castiel’s erection as it slides free of his sheath. Castiel can’t watch and he feels oddly embarrassed under the close scrutiny. An excited awe fills the kin-connection and Castiel  shuts his eyes to it, his head tilting back against the pillow.

“So I wasn’t seeing things before… you really _do_ glow here too. I mean, you more or less confirmed it before, but I didn’t think you were being serious…” Dean’s voice is pitched lower than usual and Castiel imagines he can actually feel it rubbing over his skin. “Can I touch you, Cas?”

His accession barely slips into the kin-connection before warm fingers ghost over his erection. No one, not even Castiel has touched himself like this and he can’t stifle the low moan that reverberates in his chest. He only resists a little when Dean pulls his arms away and presses his wrists, one by one, to the bed.

“I told you before, didn’t I? I want to hear you.”

And then Dean’s hands are on him again. They’re probing and curious and Castiel is fighting to hold still but his back keeps bowing and surprised gasps fill the air with every new touch or slide of Dean’s thumbs and fingers.

“Shit, Cas, you’ve got actual fuckin’ _studding_ on your cock.” Dean’s voice sounds amazed, but the kin-connection feels like it’s burning under his enthusiasm and a twisting anticipation. Castiel has no idea why Dean finds that exciting.

Dean rubs his thumb over the bumpy line that runs from Castiel’s frenulum to the folded pink muscles that surround the thick base of his penis. At the same time, he drags his fingers over the matching line on the underside. Castiel peeks down the length of his torso and watches with hooded eyes the slide of his fingers as they follow the curved length. His tail falls heavily to the bed when Dean brushes over the sensitive opening of his sheath, almost completely hidden under the rise of his penis.

Something is building hard and fast in his belly. A boiling storm unlike anything that he’s felt searing under his skin before. Castiel arches again, pressing his head back hard against the pillow. He thinks he knows what’s going to happen next, what’s going to happen soon, and he doesn’t want it. Not yet. He wants this to last longer than just these exploring touches.

He isn’t watching anymore, but he feels Dean’s weight shift and lift from his tail. Dean’s hands never leave their careful cataloguing, and his grip is slowly becoming more firm, his fingers tightening as they run from the base to the pointed head. Castiel isn’t expecting a warm mouth on his chest and his whole body twitches under Dean’s tongue as he drags it over a nipple.

_(It’s okay, Cas. Virgins usually always come fast the first time they’re touched. It’s alright, you can come. I want you to.)_ Dean’s thoughts are calm and reassuring, but the touch of his mind only feeds the churning heat spiraling through him.

Castiel groans and shakes his head, digging his fingers into the sheets. Everything feels so good, too good. It’s almost bordering on painful and it’s terrifying. Castiel wants to reach the apex of the monsoon thundering through his body but he’s scared of what will happen when he does.

_(No, not yet. Not yet. I want to –_ Dean _– stop, please stop. I want to touch you too.)_ Castiel paws at his wrists, trying to get his hands to stop.

Dean sighs and sits back. He is kneeling over Castiel’s tail again and his hands slow until they’re almost not even moving. _(I told you I was going to take care of you first, Cas. I promise you can touch me as much as you want after. Just let me do this.)_

He quirks an eyebrow and smiles lasciviously as image after image start to flood into the kin-connection. _(There are so many different things I can show you, Cas. I wanna teach you everything. I wanna make you scream and lose yourself. I want to take all that fin-kin composure of yours, and blow it to smithereens – literally, even.)_

He leans over Castiel again and presses a kiss over his heart. Dean starts moving his hands again when Castiel folds his arms over his shoulders. _(And when you can do this all again, Cas, when you’re ready for a round two, you can take your pick of how you want me to make you come. I can do it with my hands again, or even with my mouth.)_

Castiel cries out as Dean presses a finger against the head of his slit and rubs there firmly as he continues to stroke him. The clear jelly he had on his hand lessens the friction of the touch, but Castiel doesn’t care. Dean offsets it with a tight grip that skates the dangerous edge between pleasure and pain.

_(Or if you want, I can_ really _take your virginity and you can fuck me.)_ The images Dean feeds into the kin-connection sear themselves into Castiel’s mind as he moves up higher, licking and kissing at Castiel’s neck along the edges of the collar. _(You could have me on my back or I could ride you almost just like this. Would you like that, Cas?)_

Castiel buries his face in Dean’s shoulder. It happens suddenly and without warning and Castiel isn’t sure if he moans or if he screams. His mind fills with a high-pitched buzzing and his whole body trembles under Dean. Pleasure sings through his veins and he’s squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that little lights keep bursting behind his eyelids.

The noise in his head fades more quickly than he thought it would and Castiel sags bonelessly back against the bed. He feels satiated and, for the first time in many long days, content. The familiar ache he’s used to feeling in his gut when he wakes up some nights settles under his scales and when he finally blinks open his eyes and looks down his body, he’s already half sheathed.

Dean is looking down at his hand and a splatter of white across his palm and over Castiel’s stomach. “Huh, I kinda thought that it might glow or something.”

_(Don’t be ridiculous.)_ Castiel struggles up onto his elbows and even that small movement makes his arms shake. It’s the sharp tang of blood in the air that makes Castiel look up quickly from the mess that nearly reaches his chest. _(Dean, you’re bleeding!)_

_(Yeah, that tends to happen when someone with chompers like yours bites you.)_ Dean shrugs and winces as the movement pulls at the bloody mark on his shoulder. _(Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’s not that deep and it won’t even need stitches.)_ He leans over the edge of the bed to pick up his underpants and he uses them to wipe clean his hand and Castiel’s stomach.

Castiel doesn’t move. His attention is fixed on the mark he left on Dean’s shoulder and something akin to horror is quickly replacing any warmth left from his orgasm. He hurt Dean. He _hurt_ Dean - _Dean._ Castiel made him _bleed_. The mark may not be deep, but it might still scar. His insides twist at the thought. He has wanted to leave a permanent mark on Dean, but never like this and never without his permission.

_(Don’t you dare start panicking on me now.)_ Dean places his hand firmly against Castiel’s chest and he leans forward until they’re nose to nose and Castiel is left with no choice but to look him in the eyes. _(There’s no need to freak out, okay? Do I look angry to you? Coz’ I’m not. Yeah, you lost it a bit and that’s fine. I’m okay with this and you should be too.)_

He wants to object, but Dean presses him back into the pillow with a hard kiss. Dean distracts him with the way his tongue traces his teeth and curls around his own, coaxing him to respond. He kisses the taste of his blood from Castiel’s lips and surprises him with the drag of his nails over the pools of blue light stacked down Castiel’s sides.

Dean smiles into the kiss and he rocks his hips against Castiel’s full sheath. _(There are much better things to do now than freak out over something like this.)_ He takes one of Castiel’s hands and presses it to his chest over his tattoo. “You still want to touch me, Cas?”

His arousal may be banked for now, but Castiel definitely still wants to touch and taste the rest of Dean. He wants to find out all the different noises he can make he wants them all. Castiel wants everything and he needs to make up for the new mark he’s given Dean. And he needs these memories.

The phone beeps behind him and Dean growls, sitting back on his heels and Castiel’s tail. “Fuck, just a sec. I gotta reset it.” He stretches for his phone and Castiel takes the moment to sit up and latch onto one of the marks he made his own.

Dean swears and his whole body jerks under Castiel’s touch. He renews the mark while mapping Dean’s back and stomach with his hands. Castiel finds all the ways Dean’s muscles shift under his skin and he keeps moving from mark to mark while Dean fumbles with his phone. He sucks and licks and kisses at Dean’s collarbone until he reaches the bleeding bite on his shoulder.

“Cas, I’m really not into blood pl – _shit_.” Dean’s fingers dig into Castiel’s shoulders as he licks apologetically at the wound he gave him.

There are no healing properties to Castiel’s saliva and he has no pressing urge to taste Dean’s blood. Castiel feels regret for hurting him like this, despite how Dean says it doesn’t hurt. He knows of no other way to show his remorse for his loss of control than to care for the mark he made. With gentle swipes of his tongue, he cleans Dean’s skin of the stain of his blood.

When done, Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and he twists. Dean grunts his surprise as Castiel switches their positions and drops him back against the pillow.

“A little warning next time, maybe?” Dean laughs, letting his arms and legs fall open and to the sides. “So, what’re you gonna do?”

He tilts his head and sits back on the fold of his tail as he appraises Dean’s body. _(I don’t know.)_

Dean laughs again and he slides his hand down his chest to rest under where his penis curves up his belly. _(If I might make a suggestion…? Coz’, seriously, we’re fuckin’ lucky I didn’t come all on my own, especially with all those sexy faces and noises you kept making.)_

_(Don’t share the memories.)_ Castiel shields his mind from those parts of Dean’s thoughts, sensing the oncoming images. _(Those are for you, not me. I’ll make my own right now.)_

A shudder works through Dean’s limbs and he rewards Castiel with a lopsided grin. Anticipation thrums hot through what parts of the kin-connection Castiel has left open. _(Hell yes, I am all for this.)_

Castiel draws the same sounds he’s heard before, though Dean mutes them by biting his lip, by paying close attention to Dean’s nipples. He finds that Dean is sensitive where his skin thins over his ribs, but that the stretch of his side between his ribs and his hip is ticklish. The dip of Castiel’s tongue into his bellybutton makes Dean squirm, but his breathing hitches pleasantly.

Dean keeps his fingers in Castiel’s hair, urge him with gentle pressure toward certain areas and away from others. He makes a breathless noise when Castiel sucks another mark into his skin next to the dip of his belly button and another on hipbone. He has been purposefully avoiding Dean’s penis, though he felt the surprisingly soft skin brush against his collarbone or his throat while he worked across Dean’s stomach.

Dean makes a quiet pleading noise and his hips roll up, pressing against the underside of Castiel’s arms. “C’mon, Cas, don’t tease me. I know you want to touch so just _touch_ already.”

The scent of Dean is stronger here. It’s heady and intoxicating and Castiel isn’t sure what to do. He pushes up until he’s supporting himself with his hands on the bed on either side of Dean’s hips instead of laying almost flat against his thighs.

_(Is there anything I’m not allowed to do?)_ Castiel asks, curious of Dean’s answer.

He puts his weight on one hand and places the other over his penis. Dean’s groan is one of appreciation and his hips start to thrust up, sliding his erection against Castiel’s palm. The skin is smooth, but underneath is hard. Castiel admires how it’s the same girth for almost the whole length, but the head is capped and blunt and clear fluid is leaking from the small slit in the top.

_(Fuck, I don’t really care what you do as long as I get off and soon. Hand, mouth, do whatever you want – just, for the love of all that is rock and roll, if you’re going to blow me be_ careful _.)_

The images he provides to describe the words he speaks are confusing and Castiel frowns up at him. _(That’s sucking, not blowing.)_

_(It’s a euphemism. Don’t nitpick right now, Cas. You’re blue-balling me here.)_

_(Your ‘balls’ is this thing right here?)_ Castiel moves his hand and cups the round sac laying under Dean’s penis. He understands the name for them when he feels the two lumps within. _(They’re not blue. Unless… are they blue inside? Under your skin?)_

Dean groans and flicks his frustration at Castiel through the kin-connection. _(You’re doing that on purpose and for fuck’s sake_ be careful! _Those are the family jewels and they’re sensitive and delicate and –_ holyshit _, do that again!)_

_(If they’re so delicate, why are they on the outside of your body? That doesn’t make sense.)_ Castiel’s question goes unanswered when he presses his finger again into the space between where Dean’s penis ends and his balls begin.

Dean’s fingers tighten almost painfully in his hair and the image of another place to touch pushes against his thoughts. Carefully, Castiel moves his hand below the sac and presses at the soft stretch of skin behind and beneath them. He’s rewarded with the best sound yet and Dean’s back actually curves off of the bed.

Dean lets go of Castiel’s hair to grope for one of his hands. “You need to – fuck, _please_ – Cas, y’gotta –”

The images he receives are foggy and unclear, and Castiel is amazed in the change of Dean’s body. His scent is thicker and his skin is shiny and wet in places. He’s flushed in his face and his neck and down into his chest. There is a pool of clear precome forming on his belly under the head of his penis and Castiel folds his tail under him a bit more to steady himself.

He moves Dean’s erection and the touch of his cool fingers makes Dean groan. His hips start moving in earnest and Castiel watches, distracted from what he intended to do, as Dean pushes his penis into the circle of his fingers. The head of his erection threatens to catch on the stretch of webbing between his index and thumb every time it slides down and back up.

“Tighter – you’re holdin’ too loose –” Dean’s words stumble around his heavy breaths and he folds his hand around Castiel’s fingers too. _(Don’t stop pressing – fuck_ yes _– Cas, you’re doing awesome!)_

Castiel doesn’t fully understand how he can be doing so well. He’s barely doing anything at all. Although, if he thinks about it, rubbing at this spot behind Dean’s balls must be similar to when Dean pressed at the head of his opening. And he could be, in the loosest sense of the word, considered to be stroking Dean’s erection like he did Castiel’s.

He’s getting no further instructions at the moment and Dean’s thoughts, when Castiel reaches for them, are hazy and seared through with pleasure. It’s only a moment of consideration before he leans forward and laps at the little puddle of clear liquid still on Dean’s stomach. It’s slightly salty, but not unpleasant. The reaction the small gesture gets is entirely surprising.

Dean’s back arches again and the noise he makes sounds like a garbled mix of Castiel’s name and several different curse words. The warm splash on his throat and over his gills is unexpected. Castiel sits back slowly as Dean sinks back down onto the bed, body lax and his thoughts drifting. It’s several long moments before he opens his eyes and looks down at Castiel.

“Oh, shit!” Dean sits up quickly and starts fumbling for his discarded underpants. “Sorry, Cas! You caught me off guard and it’s been a few days – Fuck, hold on I’ll clean you up in a second. Where the hell did I put –”

His words fall flat and he stares, motionless, at Castiel. There’s a bit of milky white fluid on his hand and Castiel licks it off carefully. The taste is similar to the clear precome and it’s not something that Castiel minds terribly. Dean is still staring when Castiel looks back at him and he’s not exactly sure why. His thoughts are strangely quiet until Castiel gets the underpants from where he left them at the end of the bed.

_(You want these?)_ He tilts his head as Dean takes them slowly, but Dean’s eyes are sliding from his hand to his throat.

“Yeah, uh –” Dean swallows thickly and shakes himself from whatever stupor settled in his mind. Castiel pulses curiosity and confusion at him, but Dean shakes those off too. “It’s nothing. C’mere. I made a mess of you.”

Castiel tilts his head back to let Dean clean him with his bunched underpants. He looks back down at a soft snort of laughter. Pride and defiance sing through the kin-connection and Dean is smirking almost triumphantly.

_(What is it?)_

_(I came on Lilith’s fuckin’ collar.)_ He grins before scrubbing at it with his clothing. _(You know you didn’t have to lick that up, right?)_

_(I wanted to. I want to taste and touch all of you, Dean.)_ Castiel slips closer as Dean tosses the dirtied underpants to the floor. He curls his arms around Dean’s chest and presses his face to his neck. _(Next time, can you use your mouth and I’ll use mine too?)_

Dean laughs and leans back slowly against the pillow before wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders, careful of his back-fans. _(A good ol’ sixty-nine, then? Yeah, I think that’s doable.)_

A new pulse of heat shivers under his skin at the image Dean provides. Castiel works his tail around Dean’s legs, curling around him tightly. He doesn’t feel tired, but he thinks he could nap here, bound in Dean’s heat with the scent of their releases filling the air. Dean gave him pleasure and Castiel returned it in kind.

Despite everything else happening in his life, everything that awaits them on the other side of the door, Castiel finds himself happy. Given the situation he is in, it’s a strange feeling to have. But he can’t quite bring himself to care. Castiel hums one of the cheerier songs of his colony into Dean’s skin, relishing in the gentle slide of Dean’s fingers through his hair.

Dean says nothing and the kin-connection between them drifts in comfortable silence. When Castiel finishes the first song, he hums another, and another. He’s part way through the third song when the door beeps and a dull thump sounds against it as it shudders against the lock.

There is a loud, muffled curse and then Sam’s irritated voice comes through. “Goddammit, Dean! Open the door or you can go get your own frikken breakfast!”


	20. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment Castiel has Dean’s eyes on him, he parts his lips and sings. He sings the bonding-song without looking away. He sings it knowing that this time Dean understands at least part of the feelings behind the spiraling notes. Castiel doesn’t care that Sam and Jess have both stopped talking and are staring too. He doesn’t care that they keep looking from him to Dean. What matters is that Dean hasn’t looked away and he’s not telling Castiel to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- OotD Info Pages. You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- OotD store  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](%E2%80%9D).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: thelittlearchangelthatcould, seraphlimonade, procrastinationisavirtue, pappcave, reinedescanards, sorry-so-sorry, steviecass-art, teamfreewill-assemble, and xxonekinkywitchxx.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel chews absently on the seaweed Sam had found. He said the kitchen staff used it to make something called ‘sushi’ and that it is the only thing they had – that wasn’t from Lilith’s private stock – that Castiel could eat after being sick. Sam, Jess and Dean are gathered near the computers, sitting on the chairs there. It wasn’t an active attempt to exclude Castiel, but it was Jess who had Dean sit while Sam gave Castiel the seaweed.

He watches from Dean’s bed as Jess places a bandage on Dean’s shoulder over the bite mark he left on him. Castiel frowns and hides his displeasure as it gets covered up. Despite how the bite was accidental and how he hates that he hurt Dean and made him bleed, he is a little happy to have left a more permanent mark.

There are no delusions in Castiel’s mind that he will get to stay with Dean longer than either the trip to Lilith’s home or longer than it takes them to get him free. He only has Dean for this short time and then Dean will be with someone else. But now that someone else will see Castiel’s mark and know that Dean once belonged to him for this short while.

Jess pats the square white bandage she stuck to Dean’s skin and he winces. Sam is sitting opposite from Dean. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Castiel hasn’t made the kin-connection with him again just yet.  Sam knows what he and Dean did and he isn’t happy about it.

When the knocking had started, Dean untangled himself from Castiel and struggled into a pair of pants while Sam banged on the door. He’d shouted at Sam several times to ‘hold his frikken horses’. When Castiel asked, Dean had to show him with memories what horses were and explain that he was telling Sam to wait. Castiel doesn’t understand what horses have to do with waiting, but it didn’t stop Sam from continuing to knock.

As he was opening the door, Castiel informed Dean that he had not put on a shirt. That was a fact that Sam didn’t hesitate to point out, explicitly drawing attention to the hickies dotting Dean’s chest and the lightly bleeding  bite mark on his shoulder. At the mention of blood, Jess had pushed past Sam to get a small white box out from underneath the ledge and demanded that Dean sit down so she could clean and bandage the mark.

Castiel had stayed on the bed and accepted his food, and a quick explanation that was translated by Dean, from Sam. Then he watched quietly while Sam started lecturing Dean about how he should have better control. He’d gone on for several minutes about how sick Castiel had been and that Dean should not have put him through such strenuous activities.

Dean still hasn’t said anything in return, though he translated everything for Castiel to understand, and Sam has long since stopped lecturing him. Castiel is curious as to why Dean hasn’t said anything and he keeps brushing it along the edges of Dean’s mind, waiting for an explanation. Dean keeps telling him to wait.

_(But why are we waiting? Sam seems to be under the impression that we did more than those touches and you should correct him so he isn’t angry with you.)_

_(That’s exactly why I’m not saying anything. Let him be a grump and get all that out of his system.)_ Amusement filters through the link and Dean glances at him, one eyebrow raised.

“I can’t believe you two.” Sam leans forward suddenly. “After how badly Lilith hurt Cas with that damn demobilizer, upsetting his bio rhythms and making him sick like that –” He turns his disapproving glare to Castiel. “– you still went and made the kin-connection with Dean against Lilith’s orders.”

“How’s she gonna know?” Dean shrugs the shoulder that doesn’t have the bandage on it. He turns his chair and opens the white container of food on the ledge. “We ripped out the cameras and microphones last week, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but –”

“But, what? You telling me she’s had the time to put more in here since your last sweep?”

“No, but –”

Dean takes a bite of a triangle shaped piece of bread. “Are you going to tell her?”

“Of course not!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Jess sighs and sits on the counter. “The problem is that you’re both fairly obvious when you’re linked.”

Castiel sits up a little straighter while reaching for the last strip of the dried seaweed. _(How? Is that something we can fix?)_

Dean repeats the question and Jess scrunches her nose, looking to Sam for help. “It’s hard to explain. You’re both more relaxed. Dean, you hold yourself differently. It’s kind of the same for Castiel, only he looks… I don’t know if ‘happier’ is the right word for it, but he only looks like that when it’s you. He’s relaxed while he has the kin-connection with other people, like Sam or me. But he’s different with you.”

Satisfaction curls along the edges of their link, stemming from Dean’s mind. He doesn’t show it outwardly, but Dean is pleased with what Jess just said. Castiel understands the sentiment and he lets his own pleasure slide over Dean’s thoughts. He gets a soft pulse of contentment in reply.

Sam is nodding in agreement with Jess. “We can’t say for sure that Lilith knows the signs, since she’s spent way less time with both of you than we have. But Dean, do you really want to take the chance? Lilith could ban you permanently from spending any kind of time here with Castiel, or she could torture him with the demobilizer again.”

Dean tenses and the kin-connection surges with his anger. “No, she sure as fuck isn’t going to do that to him again. We’ll just break the link whenever she’s around. That sound okay to you, Cas?”

Castiel finishes the last of his seaweed and nods. “Yes.”

“Just be _careful_. Lilith is a hair trigger and we still don’t know why she ungrounded you. Hell, she only stuck you in here in the first place because Cas only really listened to you to start with. Now that she’s got a ‘yes’ button with him, she doesn’t really need you anymore.”

It’s truth and Castiel doesn’t like hearing it. He frowns at Sam and his unhappiness mingles with Dean’s upset. The kin-connection turns sour with their combined emotions and Castiel dislikes the feel of it. It’s not how he likes feeling Dean’s mind.

Sam runs both his hands through his hair and narrows his eyes at Dean’s chest. “As long as you put on a shirt, you’ll be fine when Lilith shows up. But you didn’t leave anything else on Cas, did you?” He turns to peer across the room at Castiel.

“Give me some credit, Sam. I’m not going to do anything that’ll get Cas hurt again.” Dean speaks between mouthfuls of brown cubes and yellow-white mush. “And for the record, what we did this morning wasn’t even all that strenuous. Cas didn’t even fall asleep afterward.”

Jess’s cheeks go red and she stifles a giggle. “Don’t go into details, please.”

He gives her a grin, one cheek bulging with food. “All I’m saying is, you didn’t see me walking funny when you came in, did you?”

Castiel shields part of his thoughts and he watches, slightly awed at how Dean’s thoughts are so full of anger and resentment towards Lilith, but he doesn’t show any of it. His emotions are slowly giving way to amusement, but there is still the roiling upset underneath the newer, brighter emotions. And Dean hides it all behind a quirked smile and jokes.

Jess giggles more and shoves at Dean’s shoulder in mock upset. Sam groans and rubs a hand over his face. “Could you _not_?”

“Good touch.” Castiel announces, making an attempt to brighten Dean’s emotions with praise.

He ruffles his fans and rearranges himself on the bed. Castiel props himself up on his elbows and curls his tail forward so his end-fans are level with his shoulders. His fingers trace the adipose edge where the fans are spread over the bedding.

Jess giggles more and Dean sends waves of pride through the kin-connection. The pride eats away at the mess of anger still staining the kin-connection and Castiel is pleased with his success. He tilts his head and fixes a sly smile to his lips, one that sends Jess into another fit of giggles and makes Dean beam brightly at him.

Sam only makes an exasperated noise and hangs his head in defeat. “I give up.”

Dean grins and pats him on the head. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I wouldn’t have done anything with Cas if I didn’t think he was healthy enough. But he was really pushy and insistent about it and I totally understand why. We gotta take our time together where we can since Lilith is such a fuckin’ bitch – sorry, Jess. Ladies present. I should watch my language.”

“Her bitch-i-tude is the size of the Chrysler Building.” Jess nods solemnly and Castiel snorts at the translation and the images Dean gives him.

“You’re both ridiculous.” Sam sighs as he sits back, but he’s grinning at them. “You should put a shirt on before Lilith comes in and sees you like that. You might strike her blind.”

“Bite your tongue, heathen.” Dean shoves another few forkfuls of the yellow-white mush in his mouth before standing and getting his shirts from the pile on the floor. “My body is a temple and Lilith should mourn the fact that she hasn’t gotten the chance to worship it.”

Castiel hisses and his fans flare unhappily at the thought. He’d rather endure hours of the pain the pendant gives him than allow Lilith to touch Dean in any way similar to how Castiel had. Dean pulls his shirts on and reaching over almost absently to push his fingers through Castiel’s hair. He placates him with promises that he would sooner dismember himself than sleep with Lilith. Castiel frowns up at him and Dean raises his hands in surrender.

_(I’m not going to actually cut off pieces of myself to avoid sleeping with Lilith. It’s just a figure of speech, I promise.)_ Dean leans down and kisses Castiel’s forehead. _(I want to talk with Sammy and Jess a bit about plans to get you out of here. Since you’ve been outta the water for a few days now, d’you want me to put you back in the tank so you can swim for a bit?)_

Castiel’s adipose fans ripple with his indecision. He misses swimming, but he wants to stay outside the tank so he can be with Dean. If he is in small-sea when Lilith returns, she might make them close the bars and lock him in again.

_(She’s going to order us to put you back in there anyways whenever she shows up.)_ Dean sits on the edge of the bed between the end of Castiel’s tail and his shoulder. He gestures at Sam and Jess to wait a moment. _(It’s not like she’s repealed her order about not letting you out. An exception was made because you were so sick and the tank needed to be cleaned.)_

He murmurs nonsense sounds and turns on his side, curling around Dean and resting his cheek on his thigh. Dean laughs and traces his fingers over the spines of Castiel’s side-fan. _(If you really don’t like it, I can always pick the lock and we can kiss over the wall. It’ll be too risky to take you out or climb in myself without leaving water all over the place. And it’ll be super suspicious if it takes me ten minutes to answer the door when someone knocks because I’m trying to get you back into the tank.)_

Castiel grumbles again and twitches his tail up over Dean’s other leg. _(You’re going to listen but not listen to her orders.)_

_(Bingo. As far as Lilith will know, we’re doing exactly what she says because we don’t want her to electrocute you again.)_ Dean’s grin is bordering on mischievous and he tweaks Castiel’s cheek. Castiel absently swats his hand away. _(Who knows, if we’re on our best behavior she might even give her permission to let you out of the tank again. Besides, you’ll have to come out when we clean it in a week anyway. But if we’re lucky, you won’t be here that long.)_

_(Lucky how?)_ Castiel’s fans flex and he pushes himself up again, looking between Sam and Dean. _(Do you have another plan?)_

_(That’s what I want to talk to Sam about. But Cas, the less you know about it the better.)_

Castiel frowns and flares his fans. He doesn’t like being left out. _(Why?)_

_(If Lilith demands that you make the kin-connection with her and that you don’t block her out like you did before, she might be able to see in your head what we’re planning on doing. Or she might sense that we’re up to something and torture it out of you, or just hurt you to make us tell her.)_ Dean curls his fingers around the end of Castiel’s tail and brushes his thumb over his scales. He stares down at his lap instead of looking at Castiel. _(Even if it means keeping you out of the loop, I’m gonna do it to keep you safe. That’s the only reason. You know that, right?)_

Castiel leans his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. _(I know it. But it doesn’t mean that I like it.)_

He laughs and Castiel feels the press of Dean’s cheek to the top of his head. “Yeah, I know. It suc– Dammit! Put the cameras away!”

“But you guys are being so cute!” Jess giggles again and when Castiel looks up, both her and Sam are holding their phones.

Sam is grinning. “It’s rare to see you so touchy-feely, Dean. We need to document it for future generations.”

“Screw you, Sammy. Cas likes physical contact.”

Castiel looks at Dean in surprise, unease starting to knot behind his sternum. His tail flexes, ready to uncurl. _(Do you – Am I – Do I – Are you uncomfortable with –)_

_(God, no!)_ Dean smothers Castiel’s anxious and incomplete thoughts. _(Cas, if I didn’t like It then I’d tell you so.)_

_(But Sam just said –)_

Dean puts his arm around Castiel’s shoulder and squeezes. _(Sam isn’t exactly privy to how I am in private. You and me, like this – I like it. And I don’t really care if Sam sees it right now because we don’t exactly get a whole bunch of private time so we have to make do with the time that we do have. Besides, you like it, right? It calms you to be like this?)_

Castiel nods and leans into Dean’s side. _(It’s comforting and you are very warm.)_

_(Jesus, Sam was right. You are kinda like a lizard. I’m your own personal heat lamp, huh?)_

He frowns at the images Dean provides and that only makes Dean laugh. Sam has lowered his phone. His eyebrows pinch together the longer he stares at the screen of his phone and then he starts tapping at the buttons on it. Jess is still taking pictures and Castiel watches her curiously for a moment.

“See picture, please.” Castiel uncurls just enough to sit up properly without leaving the circle of Dean’s arm, and he holds his hand out to Jess. “Want see, please.”

“Aw, no. Cas, you don’t want to see those.” Embarrassment flickers over Dean’s mind and he reaches over to pull Castiel’s hand down.

Jess slides off the ledge and happily drops next to him on the bed. The screen on her phone is much smaller than the flat ones sitting on the ledge for the computer. Castiel watches as several images change over the screen while Jess pushes at buttons. They move too quickly for him to see what they are, but they stop soon enough.

Dean keeps making unhappy, grumbling noises, but he still leans heavily against Castiel’s shoulder so he can see Jess’s phone too. Warmth starts to vibrate through Castiel’s chest, swirling loosely behind his ribs. He likes being the one who is wrapped around Dean, but it’s a nice alternative to have Dean leaning into him.

The pictures give Castiel and entirely different view into how he and Dean interact. They are an outsider’s perspective and something still very foreign to him. He knows what Dean looks like when they sit like this because he can see it with his own eyes. But he doesn’t know how _he_ looks and it is still somewhat unsettling to see his own expressions or the way his hair is unkempt, sticking in all directions after a few days of sleeping on a pillow.

One picture comes up on the screen and Castiel covers Jess’s hand with his own to stop her from going to the next. She lets him take the phone and Castiel squints at the tiny image of Dean with his head tilted against Castiel’s. His eyes are closed and it almost looks like he’s sleeping, but Castiel knows he isn’t because Dean wasn’t sleeping then.

_(I like this one.)_

Dean takes the phone and confusion tumbles along the edges of the kin-connection. _(Why?)_

_(Your face.)_

_(What about my face?)_

_(You look… peaceful. Despite how we were not speaking about anything good then.)_ Castiel shrugs, unsure of how to explain himself. _(I just like it.)_

Dean shakes his head and hands the phone back to Jess. _(Whatever floats your boat, Cas. I think my favourites are the videos I took earlier.)_ He grins and presses a kiss to the base of Castiel’s side-fan, his tongue darting out in a quick, teasing slide that neither Jess nor Sam see. _(Maybe later I can show you them, huh?)_

Castiel shivers and nods, heat curling in his veins. He can practically _feel_ how wide Dean’s grin is and he has to turn away to keep from seeing it. If he looks at Dean now, he’s not entirely certain he’ll be able to keep himself from pressing against him and tasting him again.

He would have no qualms to do this in front of his own family, and he’s not entirely sure of the exact line he shouldn’t cross in front of Sam and Jess, but he knows what he doesn’t want anyone else to see. Castiel is selfish. He wants to keep Dean’s hooded green eyes and short, gasping breaths for himself. He doesn’t want to share the flush of his cheeks or the pleased sounds Dean makes when he uses what few tricks he has learned that he knows Dean likes when he kisses him.

Jess still has her phone open and Castiel purposefully leans away from Dean so he can look at them again. There’s a teasing edge of disappointment that tickles the back of his mind and Castiel shakes it off. He responds by curling his tail tightly around Dean’s waist and squeezing.

“Dean.” Sam says suddenly, his voice oddly flat but still sounding urgent. “You should see this.” All of them look to him and Sam wiggles his phone in their direction.

Dean sighs and pats Castiel’s tail where it rests over his belly. “You’re going to have to let me up, Cas.”

_(Are you going to put me in small-sea?)_

_(Only if you want me to. It’s not like Lilith told us to put you back the moment you were better or anything.)_ Dean looks between Castiel and the waters of small-sea. _(And don’t think you can lie to me. I know you’re just itching to get back to swimming again. It’s in your blood, Cas.)_

_(That’s another figure of speech isn’t it?)_

Dean grins and pats his tail again. _(Sure is.)_

Castiel unwinds from around Dean and he stretches his tail across the bed, leaning heavily against Jess’s shoulder for a moment. She grins at him and stands when Dean bends to pick him up. He carries Castiel with an arm under the fold of his tail and one around his back. Castel wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders to keep himself steady and lift as much of his weight off of Dean’s broken left arm.

_(You don’t have to do that, y’know. It doesn’t even hurt that bad. It just aches some times.)_ Dean goes around small-sea quickly and Jess follows him. She makes sure Dean doesn’t fall over when he steps up onto the platform.

Castiel lets go of Dean’s shoulders to grip the edge of the glass-wall. He pulls himself up while Dean lifts and pushes, and he tumbles over into the water without pinching his adipose fins. The first breath of water that fills his throat and rushes through his gills fells wonderful and Castiel breathes deep, ignoring the tingling ache that always accompanies his lungs filling.

Dean waves at him as Castiel floats on his back, his adipose fins rippling lightly to keep him from sinking any further. Castiel waves back and he lets the kin-connection between them slip into a gentle silence. He knows Dean is going to block him out from his conversation  with Sam, but it doesn’t mean that he needs to sever their link entirely. It’s too much of a comfort for either of them to give it up so soon after getting it back.

He rolls backward, curling toward the floor. His desire to simply lay on the bottom of small-sea and watch the others while the is great. Dean, Sam and Jess are gathered around Sam and his phone. But his muscles are twitching, aching to swim. Castiel can’t even remember the last time he stretched properly and practiced the warrior forms that are supposed to keep him limber. It’s been several days at the very least.

Castiel swims many laps around small-sea before he takes up a position at the center of small-sea. He angles himself toward the front glass-wall so that most of the stretch-forms will still allow him to see Dean and the others while they talk. He can hear the start-stop rumble of their voices muffled by the glass and water, but Dean isn’t translating them and he isn’t even sharing his emotions – though that might be a good thing, considering the dark and unhappy expression on his face.

Even though he knows Dean won’t share anything with him, Castiel still pushes through the kin-connection and drags his touch along the walls around Dean’s mind. He probes the walls with his confusion and soothing thoughts, trying to ease the storm that could be building on the other side.

As he bends into the first position, Castiel catches the slight loosening of the line of Dean’s shoulders. The walls give way to allow his appreciation of Castiel’s efforts to slide through. Dean still doesn’t share anything about the conversation, but he keeps that crack in the wall open. While Castiel moves through the different poses, feeling the burn of his muscles as they’re stretched to their limits, Dean often draws on him for some form of comfort.

Whenever he does that, it keeps feeding that warmth pulsing through Castiel’s chest. It heats him from the inside in an entirely different way from how he was burning when Dean touched him. He likes it. It reminds him of what it feels like to be with his family, but it doesn’t inspire the painful longing that thinking of his kin usually does.

Castiel misses his home and his nest-siblings. There is still a sharp longing digging under his skin. Sometimes he catches himself wanting to open the kin-connection as wide as it will go and simply _call_ for any fin-kin who might be able to hear him and get word back to his colony. It hurts, not knowing how they’re doing or how the war is going.

During the war, things change day by day. One morning a friend might be there, the next they might not. Castiel had been so lucky and he hadn’t lost any of his siblings before he left. But if he gets back home only to discover that one or more of them fell during the war – and if they fell because they were distracted with his disappearance – he won’t be able to forgive himself.

His heart aches whenever he thinks about how they must feel not knowing what happened to him. And Anna, she had been so close, only a few leagues away. And he had the kin-connection with Uriel at the time. Uriel would have felt Castiel’s sudden jolt of fear when he recognized the dart-gun as a weapon. He would have felt the moment the dart-poison took Castiel from consciousness and snapping their link closed.

Uriel might have shared those memories with Castiel’s nest-siblings. If he had, Castiel wouldn’t be surprised if they thought him dead. If Uriel didn’t, if they still hold out hope that he’s alive, how painful must that hope be? The songs of legend, the songs about the metal-hands from the floating-reefs, tell that no fin-kin has ever returned after being taken by two-tails. It’s no surprise if humans from times gone by thought that fin-kin were monsters and killed them on sight.

Castiel unfolds from his current position and stretches out flat across the floor, letting his muscles rest. He stifles a yawn, but he refuses to nap since he spent the last  few days sleeping. He stares up at the bars above and he wonders if he would have preferred that. Would he rather be like the fin-kin of human history? Would he prefer being dead than an imprisoned pet?

Surprise and horror flare sharply at the edge of his mind and Castiel turns his head. Dean is looking at him with wide, scared eyes. Castiel stares back. There had been no need to hide his thoughts while Dean was supposed to be listening to whatever he is discussing with Sam and Jess. If he had wanted them to remain private, he would have ensured that they were. But he hadn’t expected Dean to actually be paying attention.

_(Don’t think like that, Cas.)_ Dean lets parts of the walls fall and Castiel is surprised by the fear that washes through the opening, flooding into the kin-connection.

Castiel lets Dean’s emotions roll through him and oddly enough, Dean’s worry and fear only feeds into the warmth that heats his bones. It grows, filling his limbs. He doesn’t fully understand this new kind of heat, but he knows it’s caused by Dean and it feels good. No, he thinks, he definitely prefers this to death. When he shares that feeling and pushes the warmth into the kin-connection, the link falls into a stunned silence.

Dean’s ears go red and it spreads to his face quickly, making his freckles stand out. Castiel sits up, his confusion flickering over the warmth. He doesn’t get an answer. Dean just stares at him for a few moments before dropping his eyes back to Sam and his phone. Castiel continues to push his confusion against the edges of Dean’s mind, searching for an answer.

The flush spreads down the back of his neck. It’s just a simple flick of his tail, a slithering motion that sends him across the floor to the glass wall. Castiel presses his hands to the glass like he presses his confusion through the kin-connection. He watches Dean closely, hoping for a hint of why he’s blushing. Dean’s reaction leaves Castiel thinking that he must know what the warmth is and he’s not telling him.

Castiel has an idea, just a small hint, of what that warmth might be. He thinks he might have named it once. If he names it again, and if he’s wrong… If Dean tell him that it’s not what he thinks it is… It scares him. He doesn’t want that to happen. He _likes_ this feeling. It makes him happy.

He catches the brief flicker of Dean’s eyes, slipping from Sam back to small-sea – back to Castiel – before he looks down again. It’s just a quick glance, but it almost seems shy. There is still nothing but that unnatural silence in the kin-connection. There are cracks in the walls around Dean’s mind, but nothing is coming through and it is unnerving.

He is about to withdraw, to turn away and swim frustrated circles around small-sea, but something flickers softly along the bare edges of the kin-connection. It’s muted and almost not even there. Castiel reaches for it, seizing the feeling and dragging it into the center of his mind where he can study it properly.

Castiel can feel Dean’s slight resistance and a flare of his panic, but Castiel calms his agitation with the warmth fluttering softly in his chest. He floods the kin-connection with that while he examines the little feeling that is little more than a wisp of sand through his fingers. It is warm too. Though it is tiny, it pulses with the almost-named heat that tickles over Castiel’s ribs.

Shocked, Castiel lets the feeling go as soon as he realizes what he is holding. It dissipates in the rush of his own feelings and Dean ducks his head, hiding it in the motion of leaning closer to Sam and squinting at the screen of his phone. Castiel’s fans flare wide with his surprise, the webbing stretched taught between the spines. His adipose fins ripple wildly and Castiel’s skin and scales feel tingly.

_(Dean.)_ Castiel pulls sharply at the kin-connection to get his attention.

Dean’s only acknowledgement is the slight tilt of his head.

_(I want to kiss you.)_ He presses his hands to the glass-wall again, his tail twitching back and forth over the smooth floor of small-sea. _(Right now.)_

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitches, a barely-there smile that has Castiel lifting from the floor to float. His adipose fins roll in little waves to keep him in place. He wants to kiss Dean and wrap around him, hold him close and never let him go. The same warmth that fills him is in Dean too and Castiel is _thrilled_. He doesn’t just _want_ to kiss Dean, he _needs_ to.

But Dean shakes his head, just a small side-to-side motion that sets Castiel’s teeth on edge. He growls and pushes away from the wall, swimming in tight circles that barely take him halfway across small-sea. He knows Dean isn’t lying, that the small bit of that warm-feeling he let leak into the kin-connection is genuine. It makes Castiel happy to know Dean feels it too and the need to kiss him is itching under his skin.

He could try to climb out of small-sea himself. Dean would come to stop him, worried that he might be hurt by the fall to the platform. Castiel could kiss him then. But the action might only irritate Dean and it’s possible that he wouldn’t want to kiss Castiel because of it.

Castiel doesn’t know what to _do_. This warmth is filling him and he needs to let it out somehow. It’s demanding that he hold Dean to him and kiss him soft and slow, to get Dean to show him how to express this feeling properly. But Dean isn’t in small-sea and he is refusing to go to the platform.

The realization hits him suddenly. Castiel is thinking like a human. But he is not human. If he can’t kiss Dean right now, then he needs to let this feeling out a different way before he explodes. And he should do it the way a fin-kin would. Resolutely, Castiel returns to the front glass-wall and curls his tail under him. He presses his hands to the glass again and he pulls insistently at the kin-connection until Dean looks up.

The moment Castiel has Dean’s eyes on him, he parts his lips and sings. He sings the bonding-song without looking away. He sings it knowing that this time Dean understands at least part of the feelings behind the spiraling notes. Castiel doesn’t care that Sam and Jess have both stopped talking and are staring too. He doesn’t care that they keep looking from him to Dean. What matters is that Dean hasn’t looked away and he’s not telling Castiel to stop.

The bonding-song is complicated. It starts off as something one sings alone to the fin-kin they desire as a bond-mate. It’s a proposal that should be voiced quietly so only the recipient will hear it. If accepted, the recipient adds their voice when the tones of the song shift. The two voices become one in a harmony of joy. Their voices should grow louder, announcing to the colony that a pair wishes to become bond-mates.

Castiel disregards all the rules for the bonding-song. He sings it not knowing exactly how he wants Dean. Part of him wants to keep Dean, to stay with him always as his bond-mate. But another part of him is terrified at the very idea of wanting Dean like that. He isn’t even sure how he could fall so fast, and for someone so very _different_. But that doesn’t stop the warmth from burning through his throat and infusing every note with its heat.

He sings the song fully understanding that Dean doesn’t know how to sing the answer. And Castiel is aware that Dean might not even feel the same. Dean has the same warmth, but it might not fill him to bursting like it does for Castiel. He knows this, and he understands and he _doesn’t care._ Castiel sings the song like it’s meant to be, right to the last warbling note.

Dean’s throat moves, the mark Castiel left twitching with his swallow. Nobody does anything for several seconds until Jess reaches over Sam’s head and pushes at Dean’s shoulder. At the same time, Sam pushes at Dean’s hip and they send him stumbling to the side. He doesn’t even look at them. When he rights himself, Dean heads straight for the platform and Castiel meets him there.

He barely even waits for Castiel to rub the back of his hand over his mouth to wipe away the water after clearing his lungs. He reaches over the glass-wall and pulls Castiel forward with a hand over the back of his neck. Castiel hates the glass-wall for being between them. It’s cool and hard, pressed all down his front and his tail keeps brushing against the glass while it twitches to keep him at the right height to be able to get his arms over the edge. Castiel fits his hands to the curve of Dean’s jaw and presses soft kisses to his lips.

“This is insane.” Dean murmurs against his mouth, tilting his head to change the angle of the kisses. “This is fucking _insane_.”

Castiel hums in agreement, sliding his hands over Dean’s neck to wrap his arms around his shoulder and pull him closer to the glass-wall. Dean is right. This _is_ insane and that terrified part of Castiel is trying hard to claw its way to the forefront of his thoughts. But Castiel doesn’t let it. Because here, trapped in a small-sea in a room on a boat that keeps putting league after league between him and his home, Castiel has found _happiness_.

It’s Dean who stops the kissing. He leans his forehead against Castiel’s and his breathing is uneven. Hot bursts of air keep breaking against Castiel’s mouth. He licks his lips and tastes Dean on them.

_(We’re crazy. You know that right?)_ A feeble amusement crawls along the edges of the thought.

It makes Castiel laugh anyway, but Dean’s smile is weak and nervous. Castiel firmly kisses it away. He ignores the little voices in the back of his mind that try to remind him that he can’t stay with Dean, the ones that say he’ll have to say goodbye one day. It’s true, and it will hurt when that time comes. But he can worry about that when it happens. Right now he can have Dean like this and he can be happy.

Dean makes a few more attempts at jokes, even as his fingers tighten over the back of Castiel’s neck as if to keep him from pulling away. His thoughts are nervous and wary despite being underlined with the strained warmth Castiel from him before. He thinks he knows why Dean is like that even though Dean is kissing him back firmly, almost a little desperately.

Castiel cups Dean’s face so he doesn’t look away. He floods the kin-connection with every bit of the warmth that fills him. It washes over everything, sweeping over the emotions that mar the edges of Dean’s mind. Dean closes his eyes and Castiel puts their foreheads together again.

_(I don’t know if I can do this, Cas.)_ Dean’s thoughts feel broken, wounded. _(I want to, fuck yes, I do.)_ That small heat pulses with that thought. _(But I – There’s so much shit in my head that I hide from you. I can be just as bad as Lilith and I – I don’t know if I can be what you want me to be.)_

The hard edge of the cast digs into the side of Castiel’s arm where Dean is holding him tightly. Castiel shushes him, stroking his thumb over his cheek. _(I’m not asking anything beyond what you’re willing to give, Dean. What you’ve shared with me today is more than I thought I would ever get and I am happy.)_

It’s several long moments before Dean answers. Castiel doesn’t know what Sam or Jess are doing. He’s not even entirely sure if they’re still here. Everything is focused on Dean now. Even though Castiel is happy with just this, Dean is still wary of the feelings they’re both putting into the kin-connection. Castiel still thinks he knows why, but he doesn’t want to say it if Dean won’t. He’s content to just wait.

He doesn’t wait long.

Dean’s mind-voice is small. It sounds like a child and it pulses with shame. _(You’re still going to leave.)_

It’s exactly what he thought Dean would say. Castiel almost smiles. They have the same fear and Castiel brushes his thoughts over it gently, caressing Dean’s fear with the warmth he insistently shares.

_(Only because I have to. This isn’t my world and I can’t stay here.)_ He ghosts his hands over Dean’s ears  and along his neck, pushing up into his hair. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth and enjoys how Dean’s fingers tighten over where they hold him. _(It won’t be because of you and it’s not right now.)_

A small, wounded sound whispers between them and Dean kisses Castiel hard. His fingers are almost bruising and Castiel feels momentarily overwhelmed by the desperation spiking through the kin-connection. There is a storm of thoughts and emotions, too jumbled to make sense. But they’re permeated with wisps of warmth.

The kisses die down again until they’re nothing but gentle presses. Even that fades eventually and Dean leans into the glass-wall more to press his face to the crook of Castiel’s neck. Castiel hangs from Dean’s shoulders, his adipose-fins rolling softly to keep him from sinking. He has no idea how long they stay like that. It can’t be comfortable for Dean, but the doesn’t let go of Castiel anymore than Castiel is letting go of him.

The storm of Dean’s mind eventually abates. Castiel is sure that those doubts and fears are still crawling in the parts of Dean’s mind he has blocked from him. But the warmth is less strained. It’s still dampened and kept to the bare minimum. Castiel is _sure_ that Dean feels more than these little eddies that he allows to spread out through the kin-connection.

Minutes, maybe hours, pass before someone clears their throat. Dean tenses under Castiel’s arms and presses his face harder against his shoulder. “Five more minutes.”

Sam steps up onto the platform, standing behind Dean. “That number is texting again.”

Dean sighs, a warm slide of hot air that curls around Castiel’s gills, and reluctantly pulls away. “You still have no idea who it is?”

“Jess thinks it might be Ash.” Sam’s cheeks are pink and he keeps looking everywhere but at Castiel and Dean.

Castiel isn’t ready to let go of Dean just yet. When Dean tries to turn away, Castiel pushes an idea into the kin-connection. It’s just a small image, but it makes Dean hesitate. One of his eyebrow twitches up and then he nods, and turns within the space of Castiel’s arms. It’s a combined effort of Dean holding and pulling Castiel’s arms, and Castiel thumping his tail in the water to push up high enough.

The edge of the glass-wall presses hard into his chest but Castiel ignores it. He’s half leaning over the wall, his arms still loose around Dean’s shoulders. But now Castiel can rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder properly and he can see what they do with the phone. Dean stands close enough to the wall that it is just a hard line across Castiel’s chest between them. He stops translating the conversation with Sam and a few barriers get raised in the kin-connection.

Castiel can barely see, let alone read, the little words on the screen of Sam’s phone. He can pick out words he knows when they speak, but he’s not sure what they mean with all the other words that he doesn’t know.

“So it’s Ash with an unknown number, talking about how Ash keeps trying to send us communications?” Dean looks up from the phone briefly. He holds it in his good hand, his left is resting over Castiel’s arms.

“I didn’t say she was _right_.”

Jess walks up sharply to the edge of the platform and slaps Sam in the arm. “It was just a suggestion!”

Dean laughs lightly and shrugs. It jostles Castiel slightly. “If he can text us, why doesn’t he just tell us what the communications are about?”

Sam rubs his arm and pouts at Jess. “Go to the next message.”

He pushes a button and the little lines of words change position. Dean reads them and then curses. “Well, shit.”

“It’s kind of what I expected. We were told outright that the satellite was only for communication between the boat and home and let our phones work.” Sam steps down from the platform and sits on the edge of the bed. “Ash is good, but even he can’t hack a closed system like the boat’s. I guess Lilith isn’t sharing anything from the onboard database with the home labs.”

Jess sits down next to him and flops onto her back. “The database is filled with information about Castiel and Lilith is crazy obsessed with making sure no one finds out about him. The only reports Alistair sends back are about the reef samples we took and the fish we caught before –” She gestures vaguely toward small-sea and Castiel.

The phone in Dean’s hands beeps a few times and Dean taps at the buttons. “Our mystery texter just called me a dumbass.”

“Well now we know it’s someone who knows you.” Sam smirks, leaning back on his hands. “Our problem is still with ship security though. Ash can’t get into it to turn off the hall cameras, so we’re back to square one with it just being us.”

Another beep. “They said we better not blow up an engine again. They’re getting tired of hearing Bobby complain about having to fix the engine alone when I’m the one who built the bomb and put it in there.”

“Mystery Texter keeps giving you hints. Now we know it’s someone on the boat and someone Bobby must see regularly.” Sam looks down at Jess. “Any new suggestions?”

She shrugs. “Bobby fixes up things all over the ship, it could be anyone.”

“Well it’s someone who knows about Ash. Someone with access to the communication boards. Someone who’s been getting our messages from him and knows what they meant because there’s no way in hell Ash would send something as blatant as ‘Sorry, bro. Can’t hack the cameras to get your mermaid out’.” Dean keeps flipping through the messages as he speaks and Castiel is slowly getting bored. It’s nice to listen to their voices, but they’re lulling him into a kind of sleepy calm. “Ash would code the hell out of anything he sends us.”

“So it’s someone smart then.” Jess speaks to the ceiling, her voice musing. “That’s still about half the crew.”

Castiel stifles a yawn and Dean’s thumb starts moving back and forth over his arm. _(You sleepy Cas?)_

_(No.)_

_(Liar.)_ Dean turns his head and his cheek brushes Castiel’s. _(You were pretty sick, so your body probably still needs sleep to help recover fully. It’s just a little bit after noon right now. You could nap and I’ll wake you for an early supper?)_

_(I don’t want to sleep.)_ Castiel replies, adamant.

The phone beeps again and Dean tosses it to Sam. _(Whether you want to or not isn’t really up to you. Either you get comfortable and take a nap, or you’ll wake up later having just dropped off randomly and you’ll be sore from whatever position you land in.)_ He puts both his hands on Castiel’s arms. _(If you want, I could put you back in my bed? If Lilith shows up, we’ll just tell her you were feeling a little off and we didn’t want to take any chances.)_

Castiel twists to look over his shoulder. Dean’s bed is a bending image seen through the water. Would the bed smell like Dean again though he was only laying in it for a little while this morning? He doesn’t want to sleep in it if it doesn’t smell like Dean. But he’s been out of the water for so many days, and being in his natural habitat might speed his recovery – though he feels fine.

It’s with more than a little sulk that Castiel loosens his arms and sinks slowly back into small-sea. _(I’ll stay in here.)_

Dean laughs and his thoughts turn teasing. _(I’ll change the sheets and sleep naked tonight, that’ll make them smell like me.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he frowns up at Dean, already having slid down to where the water is brushing his gills. Dean grins down at him. _(Something wrong, Cas?)_

_(Wear your sleep-clothes.)_

Dean lifts one eyebrow. _(But it’ll take longer for –)_

_(Wear. Your. Sleep-clothes.)_ Castiel presses insistently, his fingers digging into the back of Dean’s neck where he still holds on to him. _(If I am awake all night or I wake up during the night and you are not wearing your sleep-clothes while there is a glass-wall between us…)_ He leaves the threat open ended because he honestly doesn’t know what he would do.

Dean leans over the glass-wall and presses a quick kiss to Castiel’s mouth. _(We’ll see.)_

He runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair once before shoving him under the water with a grin. Castiel rolls away, ensuring that he splashes enough water over the edge to soak Dean’s shirt. The surprised shout muffled through the water is his answer and he sends pulse after pulse of smug satisfaction into the kin-connection.

Castiel crosses small-sea to the back corner by Dean’s bed. He curls on his side and tucks the end of his tail under his head, folding his adipose fins into a pillow. Castiel positions himself so that he can still see Dean, Sam and Jess as they talk by the platform. Dean sits on the edge of the platform, his back to Castiel.

The warmth still sings through the kin-connection. It takes several moments for Castiel to realize that the parts of the heat that belong to Dean are stronger now. He’s almost asleep when he notices that there are _words_ swimming under what Dean is letting into their link. Surprise makes his fans flex when he understands it’s not just the warm feelings that are singing in the kin-connection.

_(Dean, are you –)_

_(I don’t sing lullabies for just anyone, Cas. Go to sleep.)_

The lyrics are foreign and Dean translates them loosely, but there is more sentiment in them than just any song. He makes a note to ask Dean about it when he wakes up, because this is a song that means something to Dean and he is sharing it with Castiel.

He closes his eyes and sinks back into the soothing words of a song he doesn’t know but takes comfort in.


	21. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _(It won’t be the same.)_ Castiel shakes his head and sighs before he sits up straight. _(We don’t have much time left and we shouldn’t make Lilith wait.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **Happy Birthday Rai!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: procrastinationisavirtue, ghost knife, pappcave, chicksnicket, arcreactorsandshields, alphamishka1508, and titanium-blues.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_
> 
>  
> 
> **This Saturday I’ll be on the[Profound Radio](http://new.livestream.com/accounts/2872352) livestream at 3pm. There will be OotD questions, or discussion, and talk about Destiel. You’re welcome to listen in!**

Castiel wakes to a stomach ache. He yawns widely and stretches. The little jabbing pains in his gut are bothersome, but they don’t hurt as badly as they did a week ago. He arches, his back bowing off the floor before rolling onto his stomach.

_(All rested up?)_ Dean’s thoughts brush against his, light and gentle and pulsing with warmth.

He stretches his arms out in front of him, his tail curling back and up until the tip almost touches the middle of his back. _(I believe so.)_ Castiel stifles another yawn and his tail smacks the floor once as he pushes up and slides through the water to stretch his fans, his adipose fins rippling pleasantly. _(Did I miss anything important?)_

_(Not particularly. I’d give you details, but –)_ Dean shrugs and waves one hand dismissively. Castiel huffs. He knows what he means, but he still doesn’t like being left out.

Castiel settles by the glass-wall closest to Dean. He’s laying stretched out on his bed, legs bent and one knee crossed over the other. One of his shiny magazines is propped open across his lap and Castiel thinks the angle the pillow is holding his head up must be uncomfortable.

Dean grins at him and flips another page. _(Sam and Jess are getting supper. We’ve got about another fifteen minutes or so before they get back.)_

His side-fans twitch and Castiel smoothes a hand over his adipose fins. _(Are you suggesting that we ‘spend our time wisely’ again?)_

Dean laughs and goes to the next page. _(I might be. Or I might be telling you how long until they get back just to make conversation. I’m not_ always _thinking pervy thoughts, Cas.)_

_(I’m aware.)_ Castiel rolls his fins between his fingers and he glances from Dean to the raised bars.

_(You want to come outta there?)_

Castiel shrugs. He likes being in the water, but he likes being with Dean too. The ache pulses low in his stomach again and he shifts, leaning his shoulder against the glass. _(Maybe, but… Dean, I need the bucket.)_

Dean blinks at him a couple times, confusion pulling at his thoughts for a moment before clarity flares brightly. He sits up quickly and tosses his magazine aside. _(Yeah, sure! Been a while, hasn’t it?)_

_(I’m not sure.)_ Castiel follows Dean along the edge of the tank as he gets the bucket and takes it to the platform to hand over the wall. _(Will you turn your back or wait outside?)_

_(Uh, I think I’ll wait outside. It’s kinda weird to be in the same room as someone while they’re taking a shit, sorry.)_ Dean shrugs and heads for the door. _(Just give me a shout when you’re done. Oh, d’you want to shave? You’ve got quite the scruff going and Lilith will probably hate it.)_

Castiel rubs at his cheek and grimaces at the drag of thick stubble against his fingertips. _(I suppose. I don’t want to give her any reasons to be mad at me.)_

Dean detours to the drawers and pulls out his bathroom kit, tossing it on the bed. _(I’ll go get a bowl of water and a towel. It’ll just be a few minutes because I’ll have to run downstairs to get it.)_

He drags the bucket down to the bottom of small-sea. _(You’ll be quick?)_

_(Fast as I can.)_ Dean winks and then he’s out the door, leaving Castiel alone in the room.

It’s weird to empty straight into the bucket again, but at least this time he doesn’t smell blood in the water. When done, Castiel takes the bucket up to the opening in the bars. While clearing his lungs, he empties the bucket of all but a few finger widths of water. He hangs his arms over the edge of the glass-wall and it digs into his underarms while he holds the bucket, waiting for Dean to come back.

He reaches for Dean’s mind, his touch sliding through the warmth that permeates the kin-connection and it makes Castiel’s skin tingle at the realization that it is _still_ there, despite how long he slept. _(How far are you?)_

_(Just coming back up the stairs. It’s a little harder to run with a bowl of water without spilling it.)_

_(Why couldn’t you just put water from small-sea in the bucket and use that instead?)_ Castiel thumps the hard edge of the bucket against the glass for emphasis. _(There are towels in here too.)_

Dean falls silent for a moment and embarrassment flares bright along the edges of his mind. _(Didn’t even occur to me. Geeze, Cas, gorgeous_ and _smart. What did I ever do to deserve you?)_

Castiel scrunches his nose, frowning at the wall. _(I don’t understand the question.)_

He hears Dean’s laugh through the kin-connection and through the door moments before it beeps. _(Nevermind. Did you want to try shaving yourself? I can hold the mirror and make –)_

_(I used to shave without a mirror and with a dagger. I’m fairly certain I can shave my own face with a tiny razor.)_ Castiel frowns down at Dean as he puts the bowl on the edge of the platform and takes the bucket. His arms ache slightly and he flexes his fingers to get the blood flow back into them. _(You can observe if you’d like.)_

_(Yeah, I’m definitely going to watch. I’ll have pieces of Kleenex ready.)_ Dean’s thoughts are thrumming with amusement and Castiel raises an eyebrow, confused because he has no idea what Dean finds humorous. _(You’ll probably cut yourself. Razor blades are pretty different from a dagger.)_

Castiel’s tail lashes back and forth, smacking the glass. _(I’m an adult, Dean. I can care for myself.)_

Dean steps up onto the platform and crosses his arms on the edge of the small-sea. He has a smirk quirking his lips and Castiel draws back to give Dean the space to put his arms. _(Oh, my bad. All the purring you were doing when I was shaving you before was just an accident, huh? I guess you didn’t like it at all?)_

He huffs and presses his lips together in a thin line. _(I didn’t say that.)_

_(Didn’t you?)_ Dean is still grinning and his amusement keeps spiraling through the kin-connection.

_(I don’t understand what you’re finding so amusing.)_ Castiel flares his fans unhappily. He doesn’t like being confused and teased like this. _(I didn’t say that I didn’t like it when you helped me. I very much enjoy when you touch me. I am merely stating that I am fully capable of shaving myself.)_

The smirk softens into a smile and Dean reaches out to tap Castiel on the nose. _(It’s okay, Cas. I just think you’re being adorable.)_

Castiel draws out of reach, eyeing Dean warily. _(I’m not – You’re being weird.)_

_(I’m happy, Cas. I’m just really happy.)_ Dean shrugs and tilts his head, his joy surging through the kin-connection. _(Now are you gonna stay over there or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?)_

He narrows his eyes at Dean, suspicious. _(What are you happy about?)_

_(Lots of things. Our plan, for one. It’s missing a few parts, but we’ve got a major piece of it decided. And –)_ He drops his gaze, watching the ripples his fingers make as he drags them across the surface of the water. _(And you. I’m happy coz’ of you. Now shut up and get over here.)_

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise. The warmth from Dean is still rather weak in the kin-connection, but Castiel hadn’t thought to associate it with the cheerfulness that pulses loudly between them. It’s a pleasant revelation. He slides forward slowly until he’s within reach, but Dean doesn’t make any move to touch him. Instead, he keeps dragging his hand through the water. Castiel draws closer until he’s pressed against the glass directly in front of him.

Dean’s arms move from the glass wall, making room for Castiel to pull himself up. Dean loops one arm around his shoulders and Castiel flattens his back-fans so they don’t get in the way. Castiel leans into the kiss and his adipose fans ripple at the soft touch. He pulls away only to press forward again, tilting his head to change it. The kisses become open mouthed and it doesn’t take too long before Dean is nipping at Castiel’s lips.

Dean licks his way into his mouth and Castiel is quickly losing himself in Dean’s taste. He curls his fingers in the short bristles of Dean’s hair and sucks gently at his tongue. Dean practically growls into the kiss and the sound sends shivers down Castiel’s spine, making his adipose fins ripple wildly.

_(Cas, you need to get out of this tank right now.)_ Dean gets his hands under Castiel’s arms and tries to lift him without breaking the kiss. _(Like, right the fuck now.)_

Castiel’s tail thrashes, hitting the wall hard enough that Dean jerks back in surprise. It’s easier to get out of small-sea when they’re not kissing. Dean wraps an arm around Castiel’s waist while his tail is still hooked over the edge of the wall and takes a step back.

_(Dean, watch out for the edge of the platform.)_

_(Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don’t worry.)_ Dean fixes his mouth to the curve of Castiel’s jaw below his side-fan. _(You should – yeah, you should shave first. Don’t wanna get any –)_ His tongue teases over the scales lining his gills. _(– Don’t wanna get any stubble burn.)_

Castiel’s twitches his tail over the wall and immediately wraps it around Dean’s waist. _(You are very enthusiastic.)_

Dean slowly steps down from the platform backwards and promptly sits on Sam and Jess’s bed. He presses another kiss to the mark on Castiel’s neck. _(I’m a man in his prime, Cas, and I’ve been wanting to touch you for weeks. Now that I’m allowed to, and we’re alone, you can bet your baby blues that I’m going to touch you as much as I can.)_

His fans flare wide with a sudden surge of possession. Castiel’s hands start to tremble and he curls his fingers tightly in the back of Dean’s shirt. He gasps quietly when Dean closes his mouth over the mark and presses his teeth against Castiel’s skin. _(I’m not one for bite-play, but I kinda wanna pay you back for this morning.)_

The warmth in Castiel’s chest boils outward into his limbs, pooling in his gut and making it hard for Castiel to breathe. Every breath is a short, sharp burst and his tail curls tighter around Dean. He would very much like to have a mark from Dean, something to show to his family if he ever gets home. His chest hitches when Dean licks wetly at the red spot on his neck.

_(Maybe another time. Lilith will shit a brick if I do anything like that right now.)_ Dean’s fingers don’t hold still. They keep pressing up and down Castiel’s back, or tracing the blue lines of colour on his sides. Every touch pulls a different sound from Castiel.

He whines and leans out of reach of Dean’s mouth. He hates having to do that, but it’s the only way he can think. It’s impossible to have any kind of thought while Dean’s lips are on his skin. _(Dean – Sam will be back soon.)_

_(It won’t be the first time he’s walked in on me with someone.)_ He laughs and curls forward, pressing his tongue to Castiel’s chest. _(Hell, it won’t even be the first time he’s walked in on me with someone in_ his _bed. S’kinda what happens when you grow up in motel rooms.)_

_(But Dean –)_ Castiel hisses when Dean’s mouths over his nipple and he loses his trail of thought for however long Dean stays there.

It’s when Dean moves up to his collarbone, tasting along the length of it before dipping down towards his other nipple, that Castiel  has a brief moment of clarity. He pushes Dean back sharply by his shoulders and gives him a stern look. _(Sam may have seen you like this_ before _, but I don’t want anyone to see you like that_ again _. Not while I’m here.)_

Dean blinks at him, surprise curling through the kin-connection in wide waves.  Castiel has to fight to keep from being distracted by Dean’s kiss-swollen lips made shiny with saliva. It makes Castiel want to taste him again. He’s not even aware that his hand moves until one of his fingers is tracing the plump curve of Dean’s bottom lip.

The warmth Dean shares in the kin-connection swells slightly and he smiles, his tongue darting out to wet his fingertip. _(First you cover up all of Pam’s marks. Then you bite me. Now you don’t want anyone to see me when I’m being sexy. You’re pretty possessive there, ain’t’cha Cas?)_

He hisses, baring his teeth. Castiel presses his finger against Dean’s tongue and his fans snap open, wide and possessive when Dean sucks his finger in, the webbing between his fingers pressing against the side of his mouth. He swallows sharply at the wet heat surrounding his finger and the way Dean’s tongue traces the seam where finger and webbing meet.

Dean lets go with a slick sound and Castiel suddenly remembers to breathe. The edges of the kin-connection vibrate with a teasing tone and Dean leans back on his hands. Castiel immediately misses having his warm palms pressed against his skin. _(You’re pretty cute when you’re being selfish.)_

Castiel  narrows his fans, pressing them flat against the sides of his head and his back. He looks away, frowning at the many pillows clustered at the top of the bed. _(I shouldn’t be. It’s shameful. A warrior shouldn’t covet anything.)_

_(A soldier should be free of desires, huh? Yeah, sounds familiar.)_ Dean tilts his head to one side, sighing. Any arousal that was sliding through the kin-connection is starting to abate. _(Dad used to say that a lot whenever Sammy or I would get depressed when the other kids got more stuff than we ever did for Christmas or birthdays.)_

_(What are those?)_ Castiel looks up, almost shyly, and Dean looks mildly surprised.

_(Christmas I can understand, but don’t fin-kin at least celebrate birthdays?)_

He shakes his head. _(We don’t keep track of time the way humans do. We mark seasons by the flow of the currents and the migration of the sea-giants, or schools of fish.)_

_(So you don’t know how old you are?)_

Castiel shakes his head, shrugging one shoulder. _(Not by your standards. The currents should be changing soon and when they do, it’ll be my fifty-sixth season.)_

Dean stares at him for a few moments before shifting so he can run a hand through his hair. _(Jesus, that sounds old. But how many seasons are there in a year?)_

He frowns and his adipose fins flutter as he thinks. Castiel leans forward, curling and tucking himself against Dean’s chest. His thoughts run over what he knows about humans and their concepts of time. He knows that one rotation of the sentry is about seven days. Seven days is a week and four weeks is a month. Which means… He does the addition and the multiplication several times to make sure he’s right.

_(There are roughly two seasons per one human year. I’m almost twenty-eight years old, by your standards.)_ Satisfied with his conclusion, Castiel turns his head and presses his nose under Dean’s jaw. It’s one of his favourite things to do. This is the only spot on Dean that isn’t covered with his clothes where his scent is the strongest.

Dean tilts his head, giving Castiel more room. He laughs whenever Castiel rubs his cheek and his stubble against the thin skin of his neck. _(So you’re just a little younger than me. I turned twenty-eight a few months ago. Sam is gonna be twenty-four in a couple weeks. Jess is twenty-five.)_

Castiel hums and licks lightly at the soft skin underneath Dean’s jaw. _(Does age matter that much to you?)_

_(No. I was just curious.)_ Dean work their way into his hair again, fingers massaging into his scalp. _(I like learning about you.)_

He purrs at the touch and pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt, warming his hands with the heat of his skin. The pulsing warmth in the kin-connection heats him from the inside and the rumble in Castiel’s chest grows louder. He spreads one hand over Dean’s stomach and his thumb brushes against the little pit that Dean calls a ‘belly button’.

_(Me too. I like learning about you –)_ He licks at the mark left on the hard center of Dean’s throat. _(– and humans. I like finding out our differences and our similarities.)_ Castiel presses a fingertip into his belly button and Dean squirms, a small laugh vibrating against Castiel’s tongue.

He continues his exploration of Dean’s neck and along the collar of his shirt. Dean is very compliant, tilting his head to give as much room as he can wherever Castiel’s lips and tongue travel. He stretches out his torso, baring his stomach and chest to the searching touch of his fingers. Castiel  already knows most of Dean’s body from this morning and he’s content to put his new knowledge to work.

Every laugh when he touches the ticklish spots, or breathy sigh when he touches the places that make him twitch, makes Castiel smile against Dean’s collarbone. His hands are smoothing over the muscles of Dean’s back when someone knocks at the door. He flares his fans and grunts unhappily. Castiel may not be aroused at the moment, but he does _not_ want to stop what he is doing.

Whoever is at the door knocks again. Castiel knows it can’t be Lilith, or Alistair, or Gordon. None of them would have the consideration to announce their presence before entering the room. Dean starts to sit up again and Castiel pushes him back. _(I’m not done.)_

_(Cas, someone is at the door.)_

_(Then make them go away.)_ He tugs at Dean’s collar, revealing the edge of the square bandage Jess covered the bite mark with. _(They can come back when we’re done.)_

Dean’s amusement _(And when, exactly, will we be done?)_

_(Once I am satisfied.)_ Castiel licks at the strange clear fake-skin that holds the edges of the bandage down over Dean’s skin.  He wants to see the mark and check on how it is healing. Since he was the one to leave it, he should be the one to care for it.

The door beeps and Castiel glances over his shoulder. It doesn’t more than a crack. “Hey! You guys decent?” The voice belongs to Jess and Castiel frowns. He can’t send her away, especially if Sam is with her. Dean holds them both in such high regard. He allows the kin-connection to fill with all his disappointment as he slides from Dean’s lap to curl next to him on the bed.

Dean simply grins at him. “Yeah, Jess. We’re good.” He leans in for one more quick kiss that Castiel wants to chase after.

“Oh good, you’re out of the tank!” Jess smiles at them as she enters the room.

It is a small, strained expression and Castiel is immediately on his guard. The door falls shut behind her and the sinking feeling in Castiel’s chest grows. Sam isn’t with her and she isn’t carrying any food. The same worry flows through the kin-connection from Dean and they share a quick look before Dean gets up from the bed.

Dean tries to sound and look casual as he smiles back at her. “Where’s Sam?”

Her smiles falls away and her expression turns hard. “Getting changed..”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. “Why?”

Jess’s lips curl and she crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “Lilith has invited us all to have dinner in her dining room and she wants us to look presentable. You’ve got twenty minutes to clean up and put on something nice to wear.”

 She glares hatefully at a space on the wall for a moments before sighing, her shoulders sagging. Jess looks very tired and she rubs at her forehead. “She wants Castiel shaved and she’s got someone who’s going to do his hair when you get him to her room.”

Dean’s hands curl into fists and tremble. “And what are they going to do?”

Jess shrugs. “Hell if I know. We were stopped on our way to the cafeteria and taken to her –” She stalls and her nose crinkles. “I dunno what else to call it other than her ‘dressing room’. They’ve got what looks like a salon set up in one corner. It’s ridiculous. I think she has her own personal stylist on board and they’re going to wash Castiel’s hair, maybe cut it. I really don’t know.”

Castiel reaches up and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t want to cut it. It’s at a decent length and it doesn’t need to be cut for several more sentry rotations. It’s only when the strands at the very front can be pulled straight to reach his eyes does he actually cut it.

Dean is practically vibrating with the anger storming through the kin-connection. “That’s bullshit. Cas looks fine. He doesn’t need any –”

“I know, Dean. Trust me, I know.” Jess sighs again and starts fidgeting with the braid hanging over her shoulder. “I should go get ready now. Wear your nicest clothes, Dean.”

“I’m didn’t exactly pack for fancy dinner parties. I packed for working on engines and shit.” Dean leaves Castiel to stomp across the room and pull open the drawers at the end of his bed. “I’ve got flannels, t-shirts, jeans. I don’t have any suits or dress clothes.”

Jess follows and Castiel wants to too. But the last time he had mentioned crawling across the floor, Dean had been very adamant that he not do that, stressing that that the floor was dirty. And if he goes to Lilith’s room with his scales and adipose covered in dirt, Lilith would probably not be very happy.

Castiel watches quietly from across the room as Jess goes through Dean’s clothes. She keeps making little disapproving noises and lecturing Dean about something she calls his ‘wardrobe’. Dean’s exasperation swirls through the kin-connection and he’s practically glaring at her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Well these are the nicest things you have here. Wear them. I’ll try explaining it to Lilith or something if she starts to freak out.” Jess shoves some clothes into Dean’s arms. “I’ll see you there. Bye Castiel!” He waves when she does, but she pauses in the doorway. “Oh, by the way, the flatbed is out here.”

Dean is already starting to remove his shirts. His top shirt is already on the floor and he lowers the one he calls a t-shirt. He follows her out into the hall and comes back in with the trolley. When the door shuts again, Dean locks it. He grabs his bathroom kit and leaves the trolley in front of small-sea. Dean brings a chair from in front of the computers and sits on it at the end of the bed.

_(Come sit over here on the edge, Cas. We’ve got a time crunch, so I’m going to do it.)_

Castiel drags himself to the spot Dean indicated, his scales catching on the sheets slightly. His tail hangs over the edge and he sits with his hands in his lap, watching as Dean takes out the cylinder of foam and a razor. Dean pulls the chair up close, his knees framing Castiel’s tail. It reminds him of how Dean had been kneeling over him this morning and his fans rustling at the sharp bolt of heat that races over his skin and scales at the thought.

He shakes his head. Now is not the time to think like that. Especially when they’re getting ready to go visit Lilith. Castiel does not have fond memories of her rooms and he is not looking forward to going back.

_(It’s just dinner, Cas. If we’re careful and not do anything to piss her off, we shouldn’t have any trouble.)_ Dean tries to give him a reassuring smile, but his thoughts are shaking with worry too.

The foam is cold on his skin, but Dean’s fingers are warm beneath and he doesn’t rush with spreading it over Castiel’s stubble. He leans into the touch and rolls his lips together when Dean’s thumbs spread the foam over and under his mouth. Dean wipes his hands on the towel and pulls out his phone.

“Smile!” Dean holds the phone up like he’s going to take a picture.

Castiel tilts his head, confusion pinching his brow. Is smiling a prerequisite for taking a picture? He’s never been told to smile for one before and many have been taken of him already. Dean grins and the phone makes a clicking noise.

_(That’ll do just fine.)_

_(Why did you take my picture?)_ He wants to see what he looks with the foam on his face. Castiel reaches for the phone and Dean turns it with the picture on the screen.  _(I look ridiculous. Why would you want a picture of that?)_

Dean shrugs and puts the phone away. _(Memories, Cas. I know I’m not going to forget you, but sometimes what I see in my head isn’t enough. Sometimes I want to look at a picture to make sure I’m remembering them right.)_

He rocks to one side, and pulls a brown shell from the back pocket of his pants. _(This is a wallet. We keep money and cards and stuff in here. But a lot of people carry pictures of loved ones.)_ He takes out a worn out picture and holds it out. Castiel recognizes two of the four people in the picture, the woman with yellow hair and the child held in the arms of an adult male. He recognizes them as the two in the picture that Dean has hidden in the writing-book in the top drawer. But he doesn’t recognize the male, or the infant the woman is holding.

_(This is my mom, dad, me and Sammy. It was taken in front of our house – that’s what that big thing in the background is.)_ Dean points accordingly as he talks. _(Mom died a few days after this picture was taken.)_

_(She was very beautiful.)_ Castiel gives him the picture to put back in his wallet.

Dean smiles and nods, putting his wallet away. _(Thanks. I only have two pictures of her and I was pretty young when she died, so sometimes I get worried that when I remember her I might have her face or her hair wrong. The pictures help keep the memory of her fresh.)_

Castiel’s fans fold down, drooping. His chest feels tight and the warmth that fills it is making it hurt. It feels like something is lodged in his throat and it’s hard to swallow around it. He watches Dean’s hands while he gets the razor and gives him the bowl of water to hold.

Dean pauses, the razor raised. His concern spikes through the kin-connection, mixing with the worry about might happen in Lilith’s rooms that already lays stagnant between them. _(Cas, what’s wrong?)_

He can feel his lips start to tremble and Castiel chews lightly on his bottom lip to hide it, not meeting Dean’s confused stare. His eyes are stinging and Castiel hates that he feels like he’s going to cry. _(I won’t have any pictures. I won’t have anything.)_

_(Oh. Dude, I’m sorry…)_ Dean’s hands drop into his lap. Understanding and sympathy replaces the worry in the kin-connection. _(But you’re pretty good with your memories though, aren’t you? You guys memorize all sorts of songs. It’s like you’ve got a photographic memory or something, don’t you?)_

_(It won’t be the same.)_ Castiel shakes his head and sighs before he sits up straight. _(We don’t have much time left and we shouldn’t make Lilith wait.)_

Dean still stares at him for several moments before he moves. His thoughts have turned contemplative and it’s only his emotions that make it to the kin-connection. What he’s actually thinking about is hidden behind what few walls he has left around his mind. He looks distracted while quickly scraping the foam and stubble away with the razor. It bothers Castiel and it’s a decent diversion from the tight unhappiness that sours the warmth in his chest.

The moment he’s done, Dean hands Castiel a towel. _(Wipe up while I change. We’re going to be cutting it close.)_

Castiel still manages to miss some spots after wiping his face. Once he’s changed Dean w into a pair of dark jeans, a white sleeveless shirt, and a dark blue top shirt that he tucks into his pants and buttons up to his throat. It makes him look different and Castiel isn’t sure if he likes it or not. He still considers clothing to be a very weird concept.

Dean empties the bucket into the handless-bucket stored under the ledge.   He fills it with water and leaves it next to the trolley. _(Alright, let’s get this show on the road.)_

He is still thinking about what Dean is thinking behind the walls as Dean helps transfer him to the trolley. Castiel curls his tail around the bucket to hold it in place and he hugs one of the bars to steady himself. Dean checks to make sure that none of Castiel’s fins or fans will get in the way of the wheels. When satisfied, he turns them toward the door.

Both of them are surprised to find Alistair waiting for them. Castiel hisses and one hand goes to his adipose fin where the small section had been cut out. Dean narrows his eyes, touching the top of Castiel’s head gently.

“What do you want?”

Alistair holds up a rectangular white card and he gestures toward the elevator. “I’m to escort you to your appointment.”

A growl rumbles in Castiel’s chest and he watches Alistair closely as they get onto the moving platform. When they reach the deck and the scent of the sea surrounds them, Castiel closes his eyes and turns his back to the railings. Dean’s fingers run through his hair again. He doesn’t want to see the waters he’s not allowed to swim in.

_(I’m sorry, Cas. If I could –)_

_(It’s fine, Dean. Please get us inside quickly.)_ He slides his hand up the bar until he reaches the horizontal cross piece and along that to where Dean’s hand rests. Castiel covers his hand and squeezes over his fingers. _(We need to cut the kin-connection before we reach Lilith’s rooms.)_

Irritation flashes sharply along the edges of Dean’s mind in bright bursts. _(Yeah, yeah. I got it. But you make it again as soon as we’re nowhere near her, you got it?)_

_(Of course, Dean.)_ Castiel sends a surge of warmth through the kin-connection and he gets a small pulse of it in return before he severs the link.

Dean sighs and twists his fingers in Castiel’s hair once before taking his hand back. Castiel ruffles his back-fans and leans heavily against the bar. The silence in his head feels greater, more all encompassing and profound without Dean and his warmth there. It didn’t feel like this before he knew how Dean feels – even if only slightly – for him.

“Problems, Winchester?” Alistair’s snide voice makes Castiel bristle and his side-fans flare at the sound.

“Just you.” Dean responds. He sounds like he’s answering with his teeth clenched.

Castiel thinks he understands what they just said, but he’s not entirely sure. The words sound familiar, but the meanings are hazy. Dean’s hand returns to his hair, stroking gently.

“You seem awfully touchy-feely today. Missing your link?”

“None of your business. Keep your broken beak out of it, fucknut.”

Alistair laughs, a nasally sound that grates on Castiel’s nerves. The doors beep and Castiel decides to just keep his eyes shut. He leans back into Dean’s hand and sighs. Dean’s hand has to leave every so often, whenever the trolley starts to veer off to one side. Castiel can feel it when it does. He knows when they’ve arrived as soon as the scents change. They’re stronger, more pungent and they tickle his noise worse than the smell of Lilith.

Castiel sneezes and looks up to glare when Dean snorts. It sounded far too much like an _amused_ snort for his liking. Dean grins down at him and shrugs. “Sorry, that was kinda cute.”

“No cute.” He narrows his eyes, side-fans flaring. Castiel is a warrior. He is not _cute._ Dean laughs again and Castiel ducks out of reach of his hand when he reaches to ruffle his hair.

Someone clears their throat and Castiel looks over sharply. Lilith is standing in a doorway, her arms crossed. She’s wearing a long blue dress today and her hair falls in curls around her shoulders. The pendant is around her neck again and Castiel holds back a growl. There is another woman standing behind Lilith and the way she looks at him is unnerving. She has a small almost-there smile and looks like she knows something that no one else does, but her expression is still curiously blank.

“So, that’s the mermaid.” She says it blandly and Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair.

“You don’t seem all that surprised.” Dean speaks softly and Castiel wishes that he could understand him.

“I’m not.” She shrugs and moves around Lilith, crossing the room to a chair mounted on a single stand.

There is a segmented chair sitting before a ledge with a sink, like in the bathroom. But they are not in a bathroom. And this sink is different. It has a weird dip in the front. One wall of the room is covered in doors and the opposite wall, the side with the door where Lilith is still standing, has another ledge with a mirror surrounded by light bulbs to the left of the door. On the right is where the sink-shelf and the chairs are. There is another full length mirror on the short wall in front of the single-stand chair.

Dean moves and he crouches next to the trolley. “And who are you?”

Lilith finally steps into the room, but she settles onto the ottoman in front of the mirror-shelf. “This is Eve. She’s my stylist. I take her everywhere.”

Dean touches Castiel’s arm to get his attention and then points at the new woman. “Eve.”

Castiel nods, pleased to at least know her name. She has straight yellow hair, but it’s different from Lilith’s and different from Jess’s. Eve is setting out bottles next to the sink.

“This is Dean. And my mermaid, Castiel.” Lilith gestures without looking. She faces the mirror and starts touching her face.

Eve looks up once, the same bland look on her face. Castiel doesn’t like her. “Pleasure. Shall we begin?”

Dean’s fingers tighten over Castiel’s arm. “Start what?”

“That’s none of your concern, Dean.” Lilith starts sorting through the little tubes and boxes on the ledge before her. “In fact, you can wait outside. Alistair, take Dean away.”

Those are words Castiel recognizes and they’re his least favourite. His fans flare and he grabs Dean’s arm with one hand and fisting his shirt over his back with the other. “No! Dean stay. Please, Dean stay!”

Lilith looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at them. What few items she has in her hands, she puts down as she stands. Castiel lets go of Dean and immediately flattens and narrows his fans in submission – as much as he hates acting like this for her – as Lilith crosses the room to kneel at the end of the trolley.

She points at Castiel then at Dean. “Castiel. Dean. Kin-connection. Yes? No?”

Castiel shakes his head and ducks lower than her. “No kin-connection Dean.” It’s refreshingly easy to lie without having the kin-connection for falsehoods to be felt.

“We don’t have the kin-connection. Not since you shocked him sick.” Dean’s expression goes hard and unhappy. He looks exactly like how Castiel would expect him to look if they had spent the day together without being able to talk. “He had it with Sam for a little bit this morning, but that’s it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk to someone when neither of you speak the same language?”

Lilith looks between them suspiciously before standing. “Fine. Dean, you can stay. Someone needs to lift Castiel anyway.” She gestures toward Eve. “Take him to the sink.”

Dean stands and Castiel looks up at him curiously. He holds onto the bar as Dean pushes the trolley across the room. Eve reaches for the bucket and Castiel withdraws his tail quickly, folding it to his chest. He doesn’t trust other people touching him, not when Alistair keeps taking pieces of him.

“He’s going to freak out the moment Eve tries to wash his hair.” Dean speaks somewhere behind Castiel, but he’s too busy watching what Eve does to check to see who Dean is talking to. “Someone needs to tell him what she’s going to do.”

“Are you suggesting that I should let you have your silly little link again?” Lilith almost sounds amused and that makes Castiel look at her. Just one little glance and then he’s looking back at Eve. Lilith is sitting back at the mirror-shelf, but she is facing them.

There’s a frustrated sigh behind him and Dean’s hand is back on . “Me, you, _anyone_ just so Cas doesn’t have a panic attack when a stranger starts touching him. He doesn’t like baring his throat either and he’s going to have to do that to tilt his head into the sink. You may have cut his claws, but he still has his teeth and he might bite Eve – no offence – to protect himself.”

“Then this will be the perfect opportunity to train him out of biting.”

That’s another word Castiel knows. He nearly unseats himself with how quickly he looks at Lilith. She has the pendant between her fingers again, rolling it suggestively. Castiel hisses and hunches his shoulders, hugging his tail tightly. Anxiety burns sharply in his chest and he can feel phantom bolts of pain singing down his spine and through his head.

Lilith smiles brightly. “Look at that! I might not even have to do anything. Why don’t you demonstrate for him what he’s going to have to do?”

Dean makes another frustrated noise and then he’s kneeling in front of Castiel again, placing himself between him and Lilith. He snaps his fingers and points to himself and Castiel directs his attention to him the moment she drops the pendant. Dean points at Castiel, then at his own eyes before point at his chest.

Castiel nods. “See Dean.”

“Right. You keep your eyes on me.” Dean makes the gesture again and Castiel watches him closely as he stands and sits in the segmented chair.

He leans back until his neck rests in the dip at the front. Eve looks at him, blankly again before putting a coloured sheet over Dean’s chest. She stands next to him and puts her hand in the sinks. Water starts running and Castiel tries to sit up higher to see what she’s doing. The water turns off and Dean sits up, pulling the sheet off and giving it back to Eve.

“See, Cas? Not so bad, right?” Dean smiles gently and one of the arches on either side of the chair. “It’s just like the shower.”

“Shower.” Castiel looks at the sink and the bottles. He points. “Shampoo?”

Dean grins and nods. “Right!”

Castiel points from the shampoo and points at his own hair, nodding. He understands. Jess had said that they were going to want to wash his hair and it’s clear enough that his is how they’re going to do it. It’s not exactly how he wants to do it, but Lilith has the pendant and the last time she used it he lost a few days.

“Okay. Shower.” Castiel nods again, holding his arms out for Dean to pick him up.

Dean is very careful with putting him in the chair, making sure his back-fans don’t get caught on anything. He arranges Castiel’s tail to curl out of the way and underneath it. His hands are gentle on Castiel’s shoulders as he leans him back and makes sure that his neck is resting properly in the sink. He steps out of the way and Eve covers Castiel’s torso with the sheet. His adipose fins start rippling nervously.

He stands on the side of the chair opposite Eve and Dean leans over Castiel, smiling reassuringly. “I’m going to stay right here. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?”

“Okay.” Castiel shifts his hand out from under the sheet and grips Dean’s wrist. Dean’s smile softens and he shifts his arm out to hold Castiel’s hand instead.

Eve leans over and starts the water. Castiel bites his lip and closes his eyes, focusing on not thinking about someone else touching him. A mantra circles in his head, reminding him that Dean is right there and he isn’t going to let anyone hurt him. He recognizes the touch of Dean’s fingers on the top spines of his head-fan and he lets Dean guide them to flatten, thin, and lower.

“Gotta keep those outta the way.” Dean murmurs and Castiel hums.

The fingers that work through his hair are quick and they feel very different from Dean’s. It’s not a bad touch and he doesn’t hate it like he does when Lilith touches him. He tries to focus on something else, anything else to keep from having panic coil in his chest. Dean’s thumb keeps inscribing gentle circles over the back of Castiel’s hand and he focuses on that. The heat of Dean’s skin and the drag of the pad of his thumb.

It’s over much faster than he thought it would be. Dean helps him sit forward and takes the towel from Eve. She watches as Dean carefully rubs Castiel’s hair. That annoying, small smile is still fixed firmly on her face and she stands still next to the single-stand chair.

“Do you want me to cut it or just style it?” Eve looks at Lilith, one eyebrow raised.

Dean’s jaw clenches as he wipes up stray drops of water down the back of Castiel’s neck. He doesn’t say anything, but Castiel can tell that he doesn’t like something that Eve just said. Castiel leans around Dean to see what Lilith is doing. She’s looking at them in the reflection of the mirror, applying a cylinder to her lips that makes them even more red than before. He doesn’t like the look she’s giving Dean’s back. It’s narrow-eyed and dangerous.

“Just style it. We don’t have enough time for anything else.”

Eve nods and points to the single-stand chair. “The mermaid needs to be moved there.”

Castiel doesn’t like being moved so much. It’s nice that he gets to be held by Dean in between, but it’s annoying that each moment isn’t very long and he’d very much prefer to stay wrapped in Dean’s arm. It’s a comfort, and Dean is warm. Curled with Dean is his favourite place to be on the boat, even more than being in water.

Small-sea is confining. He often has to fight off panic attacks about being stuck in such a small space. They’re one of the very few things he actively keeps from Dean. Castiel knows that Dean hates it when he ‘freaks out’. He doesn’t want Dean to worry about him any more than he already does.

Eve puts a clear jelly in her hands and stands behind Castiel. She runs her fingers through his hair several times. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to sneeze at the scent of the jelly. Dean’s hand is resting gently on his wrist. Her fingers plucks at different strands and it feels like ages before she is done. He gasps in surprise when the chair suddenly turns and Dean curses, his hand leaving Castiel’s wrist.

“How’s that?”

Castiel stares at Lilith and she looks at him critically. “It will do. Get the number three box. I want him to match me. Does my dress match his pattern?”

“Perfectly.” Eve goes to the many doors on the other side of the room. She opens one and Castiel leans to see how it’s full of shelves and boxes and baskets.

Dean makes a small choking noise and the hand he has on Castiel’s shoulder tightens. Eve returns with one of the boxes. Castiel jerks back in the seat and hisses as she places the box in his lap. She glances at him briefly, but shows no outwardly reaction and it’s very unnerving.

“You’re putting more jewelry on him?” Dean is speaking through his teeth again, but Castiel is watching the chains Eve lifts from the box.

These chains are thicker than the ones Lilith put on him before and Castiel’s adipose fins ripple unhappily as she wraps it around his waist. This time the chain is silver and it only goes around him once. When she clips it, there is a length of it that lays coiled in his lap. She places two other chains, both much shorter, around his wrists – one on each. Dean’s fingers dig into his shoulder and Castiel tries not to wince.

Lilith is smiling and twisting the silver bangle she has around her wrist. “Doesn’t he look beautiful, Dean?”

“He was beautiful before you dressed him up like a Barbie doll.” Dean mutters and Lilith’s expression hardens.

“Careful what you say, Winchester.” She stands up, and soothes her dress down as she steps forward. “I locked you in your room once before, I can do it again. Now carry him to the dining room and don’t muss his hair.”

Castiel is getting very annoyed that he doesn’t know what anyone is saying. Random words are recognizable, but he can’t make any sense from them. Dean picks him up and Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders, trying to keep the weight from his left arm again. He curls his tail up around Dean’s back to keep the end out of the way.

“Eve, you’re free for the rest of the evening.” Lilith waves her off as Eve puts the box away.

“Thank you, miss Lilith. Have a good dinner.” Eve still has that blank look on her face and Castiel wants to know what she knows. She can’t have that expression and _not_ know something. It’s bothersome and he hates it.

Dean follows Lilith from the room into a hallway. This hallway is much more lavish than the one outside small-sea’s room. It’s walls are a different colours and there are carved details near the ceiling and the floor. Each door is carved like the ones on the room with the desk and the plush chairs.

They pass a set of extravagant double doors and Castiel thinks maybe that might be the room with the desk. The hall ends in another set of double doors, also intricately carved. Lilith stops with her hand on the door handles and turns to face them.

She taps her temple and smile softly. It’s a terrifying expression because it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are still hard and cruel and Castiel’s stomach twists. Lilith wants the kin-connection. He sets several walls between him and her and reaches for her mind. The smile stretches into a wide grin the moment he touches her thoughts.

_(Hello, Castiel.)_ Her grin is shark-like and Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s back as anxiety curls hard in his chest. _(Tonight you’re going to learn table manners.)_

 


	22. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilith smiles happily and claps her hands. “He listens so well now!” She stands up and Dean’s fingers tighten in warning. She kneels next to the trolley and Castiel has to force himself to not flinch away from the cold hands that cup his face. Dean’s fingers are digging hard into his shoulder and they hurt but they are a welcome distraction from the tacky press of Lilith’s lips against his. _(I’m very happy with how far you’ve come, Castiel. Keep up the good work and I might never have to use the shocker again.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: shaishart, ansltea, squid-of-anger, and days-of-dust.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel stares down at the things before him. There is a flat, round thing that Lilith calls a ‘plate’. To one side are two forks, and the other has two knives and another utensil that has a round end. Lilith says it’s a ‘spoon’. There is another smaller spoon at the top of the plate. He doesn’t understand why there are so many utensils and he refuses to ask Lilith.

She explains most things anyway as she tells him how the dinner is supposed to go. So far he knows that there are going to be a few ‘courses’. The first will be a salad – and he knows what that is. Then there will be soup. Castiel doesn’t know what that is, but he doesn’t tell Lilith. He’ll wait and see. The next course will be the main meal and that will be followed by something called ‘dessert’.

_(Do you need a repeat of the rules I told you before?)_ Lilith taps her nails, long and blue, on the table.

He shakes his head and sits up straight, ensuring that his back-fans are folded down. Castiel keeps his hands clasped in his lap. The chains on his wrists make little jingling noises whenever they touch each other or the one around his waist.

The table that they are all seated around is much more fancy than any he’s seen so far. Lilith is seated at one end and Castiel’s spot is to her right. Beside him is Meg and then there is Jess. Sam has the spot at the other end of the table, opposite Lilith. Dean is next to him and Alistair sits across from Castiel. Everyone has glass cups, each standing on thin stems. Everyone but Castiel has a red liquid in their glasses. He has water.

Lilith tilts her glass-stem toward him, the red drink nearly tipping out. “Would you like to try some?”

Alistair clears his throat. “Alcohol dries fish out.”

“A little taste of wine won’t kill him, will it?” She rests her chin on her hand and looks at him curiously. “Will one little sip make him drunk or something? I think that would be interesting to see.”

Castiel notices the way Dean’s shoulders tighten and how Sam’s expression grows dark. He doesn’t know what they’re really talking about. Lilith doesn’t translate things properly, not in the same way that the others do. She doesn’t explain all the words and her images are poor choices to explain them. Despite his tight shoulders, Dean’s expression is blank and he stares emptily at a space over Jess’s shoulder. Every so often his eyes flick to Castiel.

“I wouldn’t risk it. He could have a reaction to any one of the ingredients.” Alistair shrugs and takes a sip of his own drink.

He looks very different without his white coat. If Castiel could, he would ask why his black top-shirt and white bottom-shirt look different from the ones that Sam and Dean usually wear. He can understand the distinction between patterns and colours, but it’s the style that is different and he wants to know if they’re called something else. Castiel wonders if the stripe of blue around his neck and down his chest has a name too.

“Castiel is still recovering from the last few days.” Jess says softly and Castiel leans forward to see her around Meg. Her voice is quiet but she is looking at Lilith steadily. “It might make him sick again if we feed him our food.”

His side-fans flare and Castiel looks at Lilith sharply once she translates what Jess said. He hadn’t thought of that and he doesn’t want to be sick again. It’s not like he’s all that hungry at the moment, but he still doesn’t like the idea of getting sick.

Lilith waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that. I take good care of my pets. I won’t give him anything that will make him sick.”

“But you’ll electrocute him until he’s delirious?” Dean snaps and Sam looks at him with wide eyes and thin lips.

Castiel’s fingers tighten over his scales and his adipose fins ripple. Dean’s voice is sharp and angry and Castiel doesn’t want him to upset Lilith. If Lilith gets upset then she might send Dean back to small-sea’s room, or she might lock him back up in his room, or she could use the pendant and punish Castiel to keep Dean in check too. There are any number of things she could do and he hopes Dean can control himself so Lilith remains happy.

She looks at Dean calmly and her smile is cold. “That wouldn’t have happened if he had listened to me like he was supposed to. I specifically told him not to make his link with you, but he did. And that is exactly what the training is for. It’s to teach him to listen to me.”

Dean’s eyes go dark and his upper lip keeps twitching. Castiel wants to touch his mind and soothe his thoughts, but he doesn’t dare do that in front of Lilith – not if they are as obvious as Sam and Jess said they were. Sam puts his hand on Dean’s arm and squeezes tightly. It makes Dean settle back heavily in his seat and glower at Lilith. She just keeps smiling at him.

The double doors behind Lilith open and a female carrying a large tray enters the room. She puts the tray on a small table against one wall and starts bringing smaller plates to their table. Castiel watches her closely as she puts the plates on top of their current ones. Each plate has several different kinds of green piled artfully in the center of them. Castiel’s plate is different. It just has pieces of dried kelp laid out in a burst of lines from the center of the plate to the edge.

_(You had some of that this morning, didn’t you?)_ Lilith’s question brushes against the walls Castiel has in the kin-connection that keep her cold emotions and groping touch out of his mind.

Castiel nods. _(Yes, Sam brought me some.)_

_(Good. Then you’ll eat that. Cut it into manageable pieces.)_

He looks at the utensils on either side of his plate with no idea which ones to use. When Jess cut up the hamburger before, she had used a fork and a knife. He figures that he’ll need to use the same now, but there must be a difference between the two forks and two knives. He can see physical differences, but he’s not sure which ones he should use and he doesn’t want to ask Lilith.

_(From the outside in, Castiel.)_ Lilith gestures at the fork farthest from his plate.

Castiel watches her and the others pick up their utensils. He notices that Dean hesitates with his hands over his and how he watches Sam and Jess for a moment before he takes the outside fork and knife. Castiel does the same and holds them both in his hands like he would a dagger.

Lilith sighs and taps her finger against the top of her knife. _(Fix your left hand.)_

_(I’ve never used one of these before.)_ He glares down at the utensil before looking to Meg’s hand and how she holds the fork.

Castiel puts down the knife and arranges the fork in his left hand so that it looks the same as Meg’s. The stick part presses down the middle of his palm and the pronged curved bit faces downward instead of upward, his index finger pressed into the bottom of the curve. It takes a little observation of how Meg cuts the larger pieces of her salad prior to eating and more than just a few attempts before Castiel actually manages to cut one of the pieces in half. He watches how the others spear the pieces of the salad and he mimics them.

Alistair snorts and laughs around a mouthful of food. “At least he’s not using it to brush his hair.”

His comment makes no sense from Lilith’s translation, but Lilith laughs and Meg huffs a small giggle. Why would Castiel use an eating utensil to brush his hair? It’s a ridiculous notion. He knows what a fork is used for, he’s seen the others use them before.

It’s weird to eat his food off a fork. He would prefer using his fingers and holding his food like he usually does. It takes much too long to eat the five stripes of dried seaweed. He would have finished them much sooner had he been allowed to eat them normally. Throughout the whole thing, Castiel tries and fails completely at not noticing how Dean watches him eat and is practically vibrating in his seat.

Dean’s salad is nearly completely untouched and his jaw is clenched tightly. The same tray-female clears away the dishes one at a time, taking them when someone is done. When she steps up to remove Sam’s empty plate, Dean shoves his plate to the edge of the table for her to take it too.

“Aren’t you hungry, Dean?” Lilith links her fingers together before her main plate.

He turns cold eyes on her. “No, not really.”

“You haven’t eaten anything since lunch and I’m well aware that you have a hearty appetite. Care to explain?”

Castiel’s side-fans twitch at the sound of a small thump. Dean flinches slightly and he looks away from Lilith to Sam for just a moment. He has no idea what just happened, but Dean presses his lips together in a tight line and turns back to Lilith.

His words are strained. “I’m not a big fan of salad.”

Lilith makes little ticking noises and shakes her head. “That’s a pity. Salad is _healthy_. You should take better care of your big brother, Sam.”

“I try.” Sam says it with a forced smile.

The female takes Castiel’s plate and the fork and knife that he had used. She piles all the plates and utensils on the tray she brought in and takes everything away. Castiel takes small sips of water, washing the taste of the kelp from his mouth. His stomach has long since settled and he’s craving the taste of meat. It would be nice to eat something aside from fish. He misses the taste of fresh clam, raked straight from the shell. Or the tang of sea-giant, carved right off the bone.

Alistair snorts and tilts his head to give Dean a sideways look. “Are you sure it’s not the salad you have a problem with, but actually Lilith training your boyfriend to be civilized?”

Meg makes a small, amused noise. Dean’s whole body tenses and Castiel hisses in warning, both at Alistair and at Dean. He doesn’t like what Alistair said, from what little of it that Lilith bothered to translate, or his tone. And he doesn’t want Dean to do anything that will get him in trouble. Lilith’s hand hits the table sharply and Castiel flinches, turning to look at her.

_(You will not act like at animal in my presence.)_ She narrows her eyes at him and Castiel wants to flare his fans in defiance. He is _not_ being an animal, he’s being _himself_. Instead, he narrows his side-fans and flattens them, dipping his head in acquiescence.

If anything, Dean looks even more angry than before and he’s glaring at Lilith like he hates her more than he hates anything else. There is another thump from under the table and Dean’s dark look snaps to Sam. No one says anything further and Castiel shifts uncomfortably in the silence.

It’s been nearly an hour since he was in small-sea and his scales are starting to itch. It will be another several hours before he’ll be in any danger of drying out entirely, but Castiel wants some form of comfort. He can’t have Dean and his touch or his heat. At least not while Lilith is in the same room. So he wants the water on his fins and scales. He’d much rather be swimming right now instead of sitting on this uncomfortable chair and being kept separate from the people he considers his friends.

Meg is too quiet and it annoys him. Her neutrality hasn’t bothered him before, but he doesn’t like how she’s been placed between him and Jess. He is much more comfortable with Jess than he is with Meg, and he likes her much more than he likes Lilith.

Castiel takes another drink of the glass-stem full of water that had been waiting at this spot before Dean had placed him here. When they entered the room, Lilith had been explaining all the things Castiel isn’t allowed to do while everyone is seated at the table. The others had already been waiting in their assigned seats. Lilith had led him and Dean into the room and sent Alistair back to Eve’s sink-room to get the bucket of water they had forgotten by the trolley. Now it sits in one corner of the room and Castiel fights the urge to ask for it because he wants the feel of the water on his scales.

He’d really like Dean to use his hands to work the water into his scales again like he did this morning. Castiel has to immediately stop thinking along those specific lines. This is not the best place to start thinking about this morning and what had happened after they had wetted his tail and fans. He can think about that later, reminisce and if he’s lucky, reenact it aga – _no_. He can’t think about that here.

The tray-female comes back in and the air fills with a new scent, one Castiel has never smelled before. It’s a welcome distraction and he sits up straighter, tilting his head to sniff the air. He doesn’t know what it is he’s smelling, but the scent makes his mouth water. Lilith is served first, then everyone else, and finally Castiel. He stares down at the bowl of pale, sand coloured liquid. There are little chunks of white gathered in the center.

Lilith picks up the biggest spoon and Castiel watches closely, noting how she holds it and dips the rounded end into the liquid. The soup is more viscous than Castiel thought it would be. She sees him watching and gestures at his own bowl. _(This is a variation of chicken soup. It’s something humans often eat when they’re not feeling well. Alistair says that your biology isn’t_ that _different from ours, so you should be able to eat this without any issue.)_

Castiel tips his head and it takes a moment to get the spoon to sit properly in his hand. It presses on the webbing between his thumb and his index finger like when he held the pen. It’s not painful, but it’s certainly annoying. He’s unused to holding anything like this and the spoon shakes slightly as he lifts it to his mouth. The liquid is thick on his tongue, but it is smooth and slightly salty. Castiel likes it and the little pieces of chicken are tender, falling apart under his teeth.

When he looks up, Dean has eaten only half of his soup. He’s stirring the remains and glaring down at the bowl as if it personally affronted him. Sam and Jess are finished and Dean sometimes glances up and frowns at them. He looks over and Castiel meets his eyes for a moment before Dean looks down at Castiel’s bowl and his scowl deepens.

Alistair pushes his empty bowl back and makes a weird sucking noise as he runs his tongue over his teeth. “You not a fan of soup either, Winchester?”

“I’m not particularly hungry.” Dean snaps back, putting his bowl next to Sam’s again. He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“Don’t sit like that, Dean. You look like you’re sulking.” Lilith takes another sip of the wine and she appears bored when she looks around the table. “This is a very quiet dinner. Don’t be so stiff. Talk.”

“We’re not sure what you would want to talk about.” Jess says softly. “In light of recent events, it’s a bit awkward to be having a sit down dinner with you.”

Lilith smiles wildly. It’s cold, shark-like, and it makes Castiel’s adipose fins ripple unhappily. She looks very pleased with herself. “Actually, that’s something I would like to talk to you about. Specifically, that little escape attempt you had last week. We haven’t really had a chance to talk about that, have we?”

Dean sits straight again and he narrows his eyes at Lilith. Alistair is grinning smugly and he leans back in his chair, watching them all closely. Castiel’s stomach sinks and he digs his fingers into his scales. He has no idea what Lilith is going to say and it’s making him very nervous. This is not a conversation he wanted to ever be a part of.

“Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I released you from your room so soon, aren’t you?” She tilts her head toward Dean while swirling her wine in the glass-stem. “I wasn’t going to. I was going to keep you locked up for the rest of the trip. That’s what you _should_ get for thinking you could throw me around like you did.”

“Then why did –” Dean starts and Lilith makes a sharp gesture with her hand to cut him off. He falls silent.

Lilith waits until new plates of food are placed in front of them. Castiel gets pasty white chunks piled in the middle of the plate. Everyone else gets a slab of brown, a rounded lump of white and a pile of green, white and orange things. If he wanted to talk to Lilith anymore than he absolutely had to, he’d ask her what everything on their plates is.

“What are you giving Cas?” Dean asks sharply, barely even looking at his plate.

“I believe that this morning Sam told the kitchen staff that mermaids eat kelp and clams after they’ve been sick until their stomachs are strong enough to take fish again.” Lilith starts cutting up the piece of brown on her plate. “Those are uncooked, shelled clams.”

_(Use your fork.)_ She pushes an image of how Castiel should hold the fork and how he should eat.

Castiel arranges the fork in his right hand just like he held it with his left when he was eating the kelp. He stabs the prongs into one of the chunks. The moment it touches his tongue he recognizes the taste and he nearly groans in delight. He stifles the sound, but everyone still looks at him, surprised. Castiel ignores them and eats the rest of the clams with enthusiasm.

Dean doesn’t touch his plate of food. “Why did you let me out this morning?”

Lilith takes another sip of wine before she speaks again. “Because Castiel was sick. You were to inspire him to get better faster and –” She looks at Castiel and he pauses his chewing. “If you want to keep him, you had better listen properly.”

He swallows thickly, as if around a lump. The clam hurts all the way down. He knows Lilith doesn’t mean that he can keep Dean the way he wants to, but her understanding is clear in her clipped translations. Castiel puts down his fork and nods slowly. He’ll defy her whenever and wherever he can, but he’ll do whatever possible to keep her from locking Dean away from him again.

Sam makes a disbelieving noise. “You used Dean as a get-well-soon gift?”

“If that’s how you want to put it, yes.” She eats a forkful of the white, completely unperturbed. “And I’m rescinding my previous order to keep Castiel in the tank. In fact, you can completely dismantle the bars and put them in storage.”

Alistair’s eyebrows raise and Castiel’s fans flare, his back-fans hitting the straight back of the chair. Jess sucks in a sharp breath and Sam’s jaw actually drops. Dean appears doubtful and he looks back and forth between everyone at the table before staring hard at Lilith.

“Why?”

She smiles again and the moment she starts speaking again she stops translating. “Because we’ve got engines on full until we reach Florida, where we’ll be refueling. Which should be, if weather conditions hold out, sometime next week. I’ll let Castiel have that much freedom until then.”

Meg leans forward suddenly. “I thought we were going to refuel in Jamaica and then head through the Panama Canal.”

“The plan has changed.” Lilith smiles again. The only people still eating are her and Alistair and Castiel keeps looking around the table in confusion. “When we reach Florida, the ship is refueling and my private plane will be waiting at the nearest airfield. Alistair, Gordon, and I will be taking Castiel home on the plane. That is the last you’ll see of him and the rest of you will go home with the boat via the original travel plan.”

Lilith isn’t giving Castiel any translations for her words. He has no idea what she just said. He flinches when Dean stands up so quickly his chair tips back and crashes to the ground. Dean slams his hands down on the table hard enough that a few of the glass-stems fall over. No one stands them back up again.

 “You can’t do that!”

Lilith doesn’t look even remotely bothered. “Whatever makes you think that I can’t?”

Sam stands too, not nearly as quickly as Dean did. He leans forward, his weight on his hands on the table top. “Castiel is from the deep sea! If you take him up in a plane the change in pressure could be catastrophic to his intern–”

“You think we didn’t take that into consideration?” Alistair crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair and looking more smug than Castiel has ever seen him. “You guys seem to forget a lot that Gordon and I are some of the best in our fields. We know what we’re doing.”

Everyone’s reactions are making Castiel very nervous. Whatever Lilith said, it’s not good and it has something to do with him. He needs someone to explain and Lilith is all but completely ignoring the kin-connection at the moment – not that he can bring himself to ask her what she said. She must not have translated it for a reason.

“How are you going to counteract the pressure change?” Jess asks quietly, the only one who hasn’t stood up yet.

“Gordon and I are cannibalizing a few of the machines on board to make the mobile tank pressure controlled. He won’t notice a thing while he’s in there.” Alistair’s pride soaks every word. “He’ll be asleep the whole trip anyways. We don’t want to stress the poor thing out anymore than we have to.”

Castiel is getting very tired of not knowing what’s going on. Dean is red in the face and he’s trembling. If they had the kin-connection now, Castiel is sure he would be overwhelmed by Dean’s anger. Sam is barely any better off and Jess just looks upset, almost on the verge of tears. Anxiety is pulling hard at Castiel’s chest and his fans and adipose fins keep twitching and rippling.

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” Meg leans forward again, her voice hesitant.

“Because you would have told them about it before now. Just like you told them how their friend couldn’t get into the onboard systems.” Lilith finishes her plate and the tray-female takes away everyone’s dishes except for the small spoons.

Sam looks at Meg with wide eyes. “That was you?”

Whatever he said, Meg ignores him completely. Her expression doesn’t change. “How do you know about that?”

Alistair actually laughs and the nasally noise makes the spines of Castiel’s fans flex. It’s a terrifying sound, almost as bad as Lilith’s smile. “Who gave you your cell phones? Who’s satellite makes sure that they work in the middle of the ocean? If you idiots didn’t think that every phone call and text message made on them isn’t monitored and recorded, than you’re stupider than I thought.”

“So you’ve known…” Sam starts quietly and he voice drops out as the colour drains from his face.

Lilith grins widely. “About you all planning on freeing Castiel? Yes, I have. Since his first escape attempt when he injured your arm, I believe. And I know that you were using your phone to keep in contact with Castiel while you were confined to your room, Dean.”

“You son of a bitch.” Dean hisses, leaning over the table toward Lilith. “The moment we touch ground we’re going to –”

“You’re going to what? You signed nondisclosure agreements when I hired you. I have friends in higher places than you can begin to comprehend and if you try to file anything against me, who’s going to believe you?” Lilith leans forward and puts her elbows on the table. She links her fingers together and rests her chin on them. “All the research you’ve done is so we can properly care for Castiel once we get home. Every photo, every sound clip and video, every document and chart, they’re all going to be stored on my private system and only myself and Alistair will have access to it. Not a single person is ever going to see that information.”

Dean’s lips curl back in a sneer. “And what about all those friends of yours that you’re going to flaunt Cas off to at your bullshit parties? How are you going to make sure none of them tell anyone you’ve got a fin-kin as a pet?”

“Blackmail, mostly.” She shrugs. “And good lawyers. Trust me, Winchester, I have my bases covered.”

Sam closes his hand around Dean’s arm again and pulls him back a step. But he’s not looking at Dean, he’s not even looking at Lilith. He is looking at Castiel and Sam appears more worried than Castiel feels, panic racing along his bones and it’s taking all of his will power to not reach out to Lilith for an explanation.

“Why does Castiel look confused?” Sam asks, he sounds shocked and wary and Castiel doesn’t like it. “You’re not translating anything for him, are you?”

Lilith hasn’t stopped smiling and it’s very unnerving. Castiel’s adipose fins tremble, rippling against the hard edges of the chair and rustling under the sheet that covers the table. He’s pressing his hands against his scales so hard his arms are trembling and the edges of his hands are turning white. It’s the only way to keep himself from moving. He refuses to speak to Lilith more than he has to and although this situation could potentially be one that would require it, he’d rather wait and see – despite the painful anxiety pulsing hard in his chest – than actually ask her what’s going on.

“No, I’m not.” Lilith shakes her head slightly and then finishes off the last of her wine. “I’ll leave it to you to explain to him what’s going to be happening. He’s undoubtedly going to be very emotional and I’d rather not see that.”

Dean kicks the chair laying on the floor and Castiel flinches from the sound as it crashes across the room.  He turns furious, burning eyes on Lilith. “You don’t want to see how you’re going to break him? You fucking _bitch_.”

Lilith’s hand drops to the pendant around her neck and her eyes narrow at Dean. Castiel shrinks back against the chair, watching her fingers and the way they toy with the pendant. “Mind your language. I don’t want to have to hurt Castiel just to train _you_.”

Dean immediately goes still and his mouth closes with an audible snap. The tray-female returns and places little plates before Alistair and Lilith. No one else gets another plate and Castiel thinks he knows why. Any appetite he had before is long gone and his stomach twists unhappily, the food resting heavily in the pit of it. His unease with what’s going on and not knowing what’s happening is making him feel sick and he couldn’t eat another bite even if he wanted to.

She picks up the little spoon and carves away a small section of the triangular black and brown food on her plate. “Why don’t you two sit down and let me finish giving you the rules that are going to be in place until we reach Florida?”

Sam sits slowly and immediately takes Jess’s hand. Castiel leans around Meg to see her face and Jess has silent tears streaking down her cheeks. What could Lilith have possibly said to make Jess cry and make Dean so _angry_? He could hazard a few guesses, but he doesn’t want to speculate because every new idea would just upset him more.

Dean gets his chair and drags it back to the table. He sits down heavily and even though his face is still red, his shoulders slump forward. Castiel doesn’t like what he sees in Dean’s body language. It looks like Dean is still angry, but it seems like he’s given up and Dean has never given up before. He’s been the one to encourage Castiel whenever his current situation has weighed on him so heavily that it felt hopeless to ever think that he might get home again.

Castiel fists his fingers in the sheet covering the table to keep himself from trying to crawl over it and comfort Dean. He’s certain Lilith would hate that and right now she looks so content while eating the black-brown thing that he doesn’t dare disrupt her when she’s like this. If Lilith is happy, it means she won’t use the pendant.

“Are you settled now?” Lilith lifts one eyebrow and looks from Dean to Sam to Jess. “May I continue?”

Sam nods and Lilith smiles again. Her thoughts push at the walls around Castiel’s mind again and her translations come as a relief. “Good. The first rule is familiar, I’m sure. Castiel is forbidden from making his link with you, Dean. The only people he is allowed to speak with are myself and Alistair. You’ll have to figure out how to tell him about the plane ride on your own.”

Castiel’s fans flare and he looks at her sharply. The no-Dean rule isn’t new and that’s not surprising. But the name she failed to mention is. “No Sam?”

Lilith shakes her head. “No. You’re not allowed to speak him or Jess. It’ll be difficult either way because the both of you –” She looks pointedly at Sam and Jess. “– are being confined to your room. The same goes for you, Dean. You’ll be staying in the tank room with Castiel. The only instance in which you are allowed out of your rooms will be to use the washroom and you will be escorted the entire way. Food will be brought to you at the same time daily. Pamela is going to be restricted to the infirmary and Bobby will be watched at all times as he continues his duties. Guards will be posted outside your rooms and your communications will be monitored as they always have been.”

She stretches out her arm and Castiel has to keep himself from ducking out of her reach. Lilith tugs him forward by the collar until his stomach is pressed into the table’s edge. He barely manages to keep from growling at her. She turns his head and her fingers are cold where they press over the fading mark Dean left over his pulse. “I don’t want to see any more of these. You can do whatever your perverted little heart desires, Dean. But if you leave a single mark on Castiel, I will have you moved to your own room and I’ll revoke your visiting privileges permanently.”

Lilith sits back and her spoon clatters on her empty plate. “I do believe those are all the rules. Have I missed anything, Alistair?”

He licks at his spoon and Castiel thinks he’s pretending to look so contemplative. “I don’t think you mentioned the tests.”

Castiel’s fins rustle again and if he had his claws he’s sure he’d be ripping holes in the table-sheet with how hard he’s holding it. There are more tests Alistair wants to run? What else could they possibly want to know about his body that they don’t already?

“Silly me. How could I possibly forget?” Lilith laughs lightly, a tinkling, fake noise that sends shivers down Castiel’s spine and makes the tip of his tail twitch hard where it’s wrapped around the leg of the chair. “I will be visiting twice a day to ensure that you are following  the rules and for you to make your link with me so you don’t go crazy. Alistair will sometimes accompany me because he still has a few tests to run and he doesn’t have the patience to wait until we get home to do them. I expect you to sing during every visit. And every song _will_ be different.”

He glares at her. Castiel has no desire to share any more of the colony’s songs with Lilith than he already has. If he’s going to sing the legacy of his people to anyone, it will be to Dean. Lilith puts her fingers to the pendant again and Castiel forces his fans to lay flat and narrowed as he dips his head in acknowledgment. He hates these rules and they’re the only part of the conversation that he was actually allowed to hear. The rest is still unknown to him and he’s going to have to wait until it’s just him and Dean before he can ask what happened to make everyone so angry and what made Jess cry.

“Good. Castiel understands. Do the rest of you?”

Jess nods and so does Sam. Dean only nods when that thumping noise happens again from under the table and his lips press together in a hard, white line. No one says anything for a few moments until Meg clears her throat.

“What about me?”

Lilith raises her eyebrow and looks at her blankly. “You can go back to whatever it was you were doing before. I don’t particularly care as long as you don’t interfere.” She covers her mouth and stifles a yawn. “I’m bored with this now and I’ve said what needed to be said. Dean, go get the trolley for Castiel.”

Dean doesn’t even object. He stands up and storms from the room, the door slamming against the wall when he throws it open. Castiel winces at the noise and watches after him, his fans fluttering against his back almost violently. He doesn’t like it when Dean leaves and he knows Dean is angrier with more than just the rules Lilith gave.

He returns with the trolley and stops it behind Castiel’s chair. Sam stands and gets the bucket of water from the corner of the room while Dean pulls Castiel’s chair out from the table. It’s a sharp, jerking movement that nearly unseats him and Dean mumbles an apology. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and presses his face into his neck. He makes a quiet, curious keening sound and Dean sighs softly against his side-fan, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

Castiel settles onto the cold metal platform and curls his tail around the bucket when Sam places it in the middle of the trolley.  He pulls it close and sticks his hands in the water. The cool liquid is barely a balm to the unease pulsing hard in his chest. He doesn’t dribble the water over his scales but instead smoothes his wet hands along his tail. It’s the only way to keep the water from dripping all over the trolley and Lilith’s floor. Dean squeezes his shoulder, his hand warm on Castiel’s skin.

_(Remember the rules, Castiel.)_ Lilith presses through the kin-connection again, pushing hard against the walls that keep her out of his mind. _(I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning. Now be polite and tell Alistair, Meg and myself ‘good night’.)_

His lip curls back while he’s still looking down. He forces his expression into neutrality and looks up at Lilith and the others. “Good night.”

Lilith smiles happily and claps her hands. “He listens so well now!” She stands up and Dean’s fingers tighten in warning. She kneels next to the trolley and Castiel has to force himself to not flinch away from the cold hands that cup his face. Dean’s fingers are digging hard into his shoulder and they hurt, but they are a welcome distraction from the tacky press of Lilith’s lips against his. _(I’m very happy with how far you’ve come, Castiel. Keep up the good work and I might never have to use the shocker again.)_

Castiel dips his head and stares down at his scales. Dean’s hand leaves his shoulder and the trolley jolts back and around. He closes his eyes again to keep from seeing the ocean as they go back out onto the deck. He’s tired and confused and he wants to get back to small-sea’s room where he can make the kin-connection with Dean and find out what happened.

He recognizes the trill of the elevator and Castiel opens his eyes to the sliding doors. Jess and Sam are there, but there are also four guards with them. They stand stone faced in a square formation around Castiel and his friends. Everyone squeezes onto the elevator and as the doors shut, Dean’s fingers push into his hair but they catch and pull, making Castiel wince.

Dean makes a frustrated noise. “We’ll wash that out when we get back.” He pats his shoulder instead.

Sam and Jess leave them when they reach small-sea’s room. Dean hugs them both tightly and they don’t say much beyond ‘good night’. The moment the door is shut behind them, Dean slides the lock into place. He leans his forehead against the door and Castiel twists around to look at him.

“Dean?”

He sighs and comes around the trolley to move the bucket. Castiel has to move his tail to make room for Dean when he sits on the platform. He’d much rather be sitting on the bed, but there’s something about the slope of Dean’s shoulders that keeps Castiel from saying anything. He curls his tail around Dean’s hip, folding the end over his lap and covering his thighs with the webbing of his end-fans.

Castiel scoots forward and presses against his side. Dean shifts his arm out of the way to make room and slips it around Castiel’s waist. The blue-white cast presses into Castiel’s stomach and digs into his hip where Dean’s fingers hold him in place. He twists to wrap both arms around Dean’s chest and rests his chin on his shoulder. Castiel makes another curious noise.

“You gonna make the kin-connection?” Dean asks softly, staring down at where his right hand rests over Castiel’s tail.

He tilts his head. If Dean is asking for the kin-connection then he must think that it’s okay for them to have the link again. Dean’s relaxes against him the moment Castiel touches his mind. He slumps sideways and buries his face against Castiel’s shoulder, turning to hold him tightly. His thoughts are dark and swirl in such quick bursts that Castiel can barely understand anything beyond the hate and the sadness.

_(Dean, what’s wrong? What did Lilith say?)_ Castiel gently presses his curiosity into the storm of Dean’s thoughts as he runs a hand up Dean’s back, over his neck and into his hair. He keeps his own worry hidden from the kin-connection. Dean doesn’t need to feel that on top of what he already has.

Dean shakes his head and his arms grow tighter around him. _(I don’t want to talk about it right now.)_

He nods and doesn’t ask further. Castiel holds Dean for several long minutes. He holds him until discomfort makes Dean shift and stretch his legs out. Dean winces against his shoulder and mutters a quiet curse against his skin.

_(My legs are falling asleep.)_ Dean shifts again and groans. _(Can we move? Do you want to go in the tank or we could soak your tail?)_

_(I don’t want to go in small-sea while there are still bars.)_ Castiel uncurls from around Dean and pulls away, letting him stand and shake out his legs. _(Could we do the latter?)_

Dean nods and gets a bunch of towels from the drawers under the ledge. He lays them out on the floor, and stares down at them with his hands on his hips. Castiel is about to slip from the trolley onto the pile of cloths, but then Dean kicks the towels away and grabs the bucket of water.

_(They’re not going to be much good with how much water we’re gonna be using.  Sorry about this, Cas, but I can’t stand the shit Eve put in your hair.)_

Castiel looks up at him, confusion pulsing into the kin-connection. As soon as Dean lifts the bucket, Castiel knows what he’s going to do. He looks down and closes his eyes. The water splashes cool and soothing over his head and down his back. His back-fans flutter, spraying droplets everywhere. Dean immediately starts running the fingers of one hand through Castiel’s hair. At first they catch and pull and make Castiel wince, but it doesn’t take long for them to slide through normally.

_(There. That’s better.)_ Dean keeps touching him, and slides both hands over Castiel’s side-fans, guiding him to tilt his face up.

He doesn’t open his eyes. Castiel knows what’s about to happen. He can feel the desire flickering through the kin-connection moments before Dean’s kisses him. What he isn’t expecting is the desperation, the fear and hopelessness that spirals through Dean’s thoughts before the walls snap up to keep those feeling away from the warmth that pulses under everything.

Dean’s kiss is rough and his fingers are harsh where they hold him. Castiel gasps at the bite to his bottom lip and whines when Dean licks his way in to taste all the corners of his mouth. He holds onto Dean’s arm, digging his fingers into his upper arms and riding through the needy press and pull of the kisses until Dean finally draws away. Castiel licks his tingling lips, sensitive and swollen. Dean leaves him on the trolley and Castiel slides to the floor, watching Dean as he fills the bucket from small-sea.

_(Spread out.)_ Dean pushes an image of Castiel’s tail stretched out across the floor.

He copies the image and Dean dumps the bucket slowly over his scales. It’s only half empty by the time he reaches the end of his tail. Dean makes a gesture with his hand and Castiel rolls over for him to repeat the process on the back of his tail.

Castiel props his chin on his hands and flares his back-fans for Dean to splash the last of the water over them. _(I like it better when we do this the other way.)_

He fills the bucket again and puts it by the bed. _(What do you mean?)_

_(When you use your hands.)_ Castiel pushes up and sits back on the fold of his tail.

Dean laughs, but it’s a small, weird noise that doesn’t sound like it usually does. Castiel reaches up and Dean crouches, lifting him and moving him to the bed. Once Castiel is stretched out on the bed, Dean half sits, half kneels next to him hand runs his hand over his scales. _(So what you’re saying is that you like it when I touch you?)_

_(I thought that was fairly obvious.)_ Castiel purrs, rippling his fins against the bedding and presses his nose into the pillow. It smells different. Not like him, and not quite like Dean. _(Are you going to tell me what Lilith said now? She didn’t translate anything for me and I didn’t recognize most of the words.)_

Dean sighs and turns away, sitting on the edge of the bed properly. He puts his elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands. Castiel doesn’t like the way his back curves and how his shoulders slump. He doesn’t like the heavy weight that settles over the kin-connection. It makes his chest hurt, a tight pain that stabs at his insides.

Castiel pulls himself across the small bed and curls around Dean like he did this morning. Dean moves his arm to make room on his leg for Castiel’s head as he slides one arm around Dean’s stomach and looks up at him. He folds his tail around to press along Dean’s opposite thigh. Dean starts running his fingers through Castiel’s hair again and, after many long minutes of petting, a purr starts rumbling in his chest.

_(Was it really that bad?)_ He pulls Dean’s shirt out from being tucked inside his pants and slips one hand underneath, warming his fingers with the heat of his skin. _(You looked so angry and Jess was crying. I didn’t want to ask Lilith what she was saying, so I waited until I could talk to you.)_ Castiel releases the walls that keep Dean from feeling all the worry and fear that still pounds in time with his heart, hurting his chest and making it hard to breathe.

Dean shakes his head and the pain on his face becomes more evident the longer he doesn’t say anything. Castiel coos a curious noise and slips his other hand under his shirt too. _(Please, Dean. Don’t keep me out of this too.)_

_(It’s just going to upset you.)_

_(I’m already upset.)_ Castiel strokes his fingers over Dean’s back. _(Please, Dean.)_

He bites his lip and sighs, shaking his head again. Dean drags his fingertip along the spines of Castiel’s side-fans and over the lines of scales on his cheekbones. The memories, with translation included, come in a rush. It blinds Castiel to the frustrated tears forming in the corners of Dean’s eyes as the images play in front of his own, the words reverberating through his head.

As soon as Castiel understands, he sits up quickly, his fans snapping wide as his adipose fins ripple wildly. “No!” He shakes his head and the anger burning under his scales wars with the sudden loss of hope that makes him dizzy.

Dean turns on the bed to face Castiel, folding one leg under him. _(I told you that you weren’t going to like it.)_

_(She can’t –)_ Castiel shakes his head violently and presses himself into the corner, pulling his tail against his chest. _(Please, Dean, no!)_

It becomes a mantra. It drowns out any and all thoughts Dean tries to brush against his mind. He takes no comfort from them this time, not like he used to. A week. At the very least they have seven days and then Lilith is going to be taking Castiel away. She’s going to take him up into the sky and across land and that dinner might be the last he ever sees Jess and Sam. And when Lilith takes him away, he’ll never get to see his family or feel the cold waters of the deep.

He’ll never see _Dean_ again.

That’s the thought that brings him crashing back. Castiel can feel the tears hot on his cheeks and when he looks up, Dean’s eyes are red rimmed and his cheeks are wet too.

_(We’ll figure it out, Cas. We’ll… Somehow we’ll figure it out.)_ Dean reaches for him slowly, fingers brushing against the end of his tail. _(We had no idea she was planning this and I won’t let Alistair do any tests. I’ll kick his ass before he does anything.)_

_(But she’ll just use the pendant if you try anything. She’ll hurt me to make sure you behave. And she’ll hurt us both to make sure that I listen to her.)_ Castiel presses his face to his scales and he’s trembling but he can’t stop it. _(What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening? I don’t want this, Dean. I don’t want it!)_

Dean makes a pained noise and then he’s kneeling in front of Castiel, and his arms are wrapping around his shoulders. _(It’s nothing you did, Cas. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was bad luck and you’re not being punished for anything, okay?)_ He presses a kiss to the top of his head. _(You trust me, right? Can you trust that I’ll get you out of here before that?)_

_(I trust you.)_ Castiel sniffles and moves his hands to grip Dean’s shirt. _(But you can’t lie to me.)_ He takes the hopeless weight pressing on Dean’s thoughts and he feeds it back to him. _(You’re the same as me. You don’t see any way out of this either.)_

“Fuck, Cas, I _know_ that.” Dean hisses against his forehead. “I know Lilith has us cornered, but we’re going to figure it out. Sam and I have codes we used as kids. Nobody knows what they mean except for him and me. We can coordinate our movements and we can both take out the guards or something when they walk us to the bathrooms. If we get our hands on a couple guns, we’ll have some kind of protection –”

_(She’ll still have the pendant. And there could be another tracking chip. I can’t leave when she could just follow me home. I won’t put the colony at risk like that.)_

Dean digs his fingers into Castiel’s shoulder and his emotions turn hard when his touch does. _(Look at me, Cas.)_

He flinches from the cold edge in the kin-connection and looks ups slowly. Dean drags his thumbs over Castiel’s cheeks, wiping away what tears didn’t get rubbed onto his scales. His expression is hard, but his eyes are soft and a sad smile tries lifting the corner of his mouth.

_(Sam and I, we’ve been in plenty of fights in our lives. This is just another fight and I’m planning to come out on top, no matter what. If I have to, if I get my hands on a gun and she tries to hurt you or Sam or anyone I care about again – I will shoot her. I’ll shoot Alistair. I’ll carve a bloody path out of here and get you home, okay?)_

Castiel’s side-fans flare, pressing against Dean’s fingers. _(But you’ve never killed anyone before!)_

_(I know. But my dad was a soldier and he fought in a war when he was young. He taught me and Sammy how to fight, how to shoot a gun. We both know where to aim to incapacitate someone without killing them.)_ Dean runs his hands down Castiel’s arms.

_(We’ve got a plan to steal a lifeboat. It’s a good, solid plan that’ll get us all out of here as long as none of us get caught in the crossfire. The only things that we were still working on was finding a way to get supplies for seven people without getting caught. And we needed weapons to cover our escape.)_ He sits back on his heels, his hands resting over Castiel’s hand where they’re still curled in the front of his shirt. _(A lifeboat is already stocked with basic provisions for as many people as it can hold comfortably. That’s five, we can ration it out until we reach land and at least one of us can destroy the GPS on it. We’ll find a way to check for any tracking tag in you again or something.)_

Castiel turns his hands over and grips Dean’s fingers tightly. _(If we do get out, you don’t have to worry about food. I can swim and catch fish and other things you can eat. I can provide enough for all of you.)_

_(See? It’s not that bad. I’ll message Sammy tonight and we’ll get you out before we reach Florida.)_ Dean forces a smile and the gloom in his mind alleviates slightly. Castiel still feels a heavy weight in his chest and it’s eating at him from the inside out.

Then the warmth builds in the kin-connection. It starts small, but it gets bigger and brighter. It’s nothing like what Castiel shared with Dean earlier, but it’s more than Dean ever let into the link before. It makes Castiel’s breath catch in his throat and his heart pounds harder in his chest than the fear does.

Dean leans down and presses his forehead against Castiel’s. _(It seems bad now, I know, but you were so happy earlier.)_ He sighs and Castiel can feel the heat of his breath over his mouth. _(Don’t forget that happy. Go back to that. Forget what happened at dinner and just focus on being happy.)_

Castiel tilts his chin up and kisses him. A simple, soft touch of lips. He wraps himself in the warmth Dean gives him through the kin-connection and the heat of his hands. His tail unfolds and Dean shifts to make room for it, straddling his lap in one quick movement. Dean tilts his head and Castiel is vividly reminded of the their kisses from this afternoon over the glass-wall.

He fists his hands in Dean’s hair, the short strands sliding against his webbing. Castiel wants to forget. He wants to pretend that nothing had happened, that Lilith hadn’t given them so many new rules to keep them separated from their friends. He wants to forget that in at least seven days Lilith is going to take him away from Dean. She’s going to take him from the heat of Dean’s skin and the warmth of his heart. He doesn’t want to think about that. Castiel wants to forget all of it.

_(Make me forget.)_


	23. Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel turns over carefully, mindful of his back-fans. They actually hurt when he flares them for a stretch and the worry pulses tight behind his ribs. He forces his glow to brighten out of the dim-sleep and the light makes Dean grumble and turn his face into the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, annasarticulation, procrastinationisavirtue, and i-believe-in-dean.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_

Castiel traces his tongue over the shell of Dean’s ear. It tastes no different from the rest of him, but he hears how Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He feels the tremor shakes through Dean’s body and how his fingers dig into Castiel’s hips. When he presses his teeth into the fleshy bottom of his ear, Dean gasps and he trembles again.

Dean’s body rolls under him, hips moving in a steady rhythm. He keeps Castiel above him, pinned in place between his knees and held down by the hard grip of his hands. Castiel maps his throat and the stretch of his neck under his ear. He memorizes every smooth plane and dip of muscle. He counts the beats of Dean’s heart through his pulse, finding it with tongue and lips.

His hands are warm under Dean’s back, trapped between his body and the bed. He moves them – higher or lower – whenever Dean arches as he finds all the spots that make Dean writhe. Dean’s ears and the spot directly behind them are sensitive. They get nearly the same reaction as when Castiel drags his tongue across his nipples. A gentle scrape of teeth on either spot earns Castiel little strangled noises that dig themselves under his skin to settle heavy and hot in his gut.

Castiel wants to lose himself in the heat of Dean’s body and the taste of his skin. It’s all he has now and he’s going to take what he can while he can. His scales don’t get very much traction on the bedding. He has to curl his tail around one of Dean’s legs to ground himself and roll his hips down. The friction against his sheath is teasing. It feels good, but it’s not enough. It’s not like before. The sounds Dean makes and the feel of his skin under his hands fuels the heat that boils through his veins. But it’s still not the same and Castiel is almost desperate to feel that again, to feel it and forget everything that happened this evening.

_(Cas –)_ Dean’s touch in his head nearly brings him back to reality.

But Castiel doesn’t want that. He wants to stay in this in-between world where everything is Dean and he doesn’t have to think about what happened less than an hour ago. Castiel doesn’t want to think about how there is a definite limit to the time he has with Dean now. Whether it’s his freedom or Lilith’s home, he could have less than a rotation until he never sees Dean again, until he never gets to have _this_ again.

Castiel growls against Dean’s skin and pulls his hands free from under him, raking his blunt nails over his ribs. It makes Dean squirm and gasp. He presses under Dean’s chin, tilting his head back to get at the hard middle of his throat. Dean groans when Castiel seals his mouth over the fading mark and sucks. He renews the bruise while running his hands along Dean’s side and over his stomach, up his chest to pinch and rub at his nipples.

The first thing he’d done the moment Dean agreed – however hesitantly – to distract him from the news that Lilith is planning to take him away on a human’s flying machine, was remove Dean’s shirt. His fingers had slipped on the buttons, rushed and frantic, and Castiel had given up on them after only the first two. After that, he’d dragged the annoying thing over Dean’s head and thrown it away.

He’d pushed Dean down and checked with teeth and tongue that all the marks the shirt covered were fine. He had tasted all of Dean’s neck and shoulders that he hadn’t had the chance to that morning or before Lilith had summoned them. Castiel had to hold back from the urge to rip the bandage from Dean’s shoulder to check on _his_ bite.

After Dean had removed the chains Lilith had left around Castiel’s wrists and his waist, his hands hadn’t held still. They’d run along his arms, his back, over his hips and they gripped the swell of his tail. Dean found out that Castiel really likes it when he rubs at the place where the webbing of his back-fans connects to his back. The first time Dean did it, it had made Castiel arch from their kisses with a pleased groan and his tail had tightened around Dean’s leg to the point that it had almost hurt him.

He can feel Dean pull at his mind again, trying to get his attention. _(Cas.)_

Castiel hisses at the tug to his hair and he draws back unhappily. He curls his fingers into the waist of Dean’s jeans and pulls at them, ignoring the stern tilt to Dean’s lips. _(Remove these.)_

_(I will when you calm down.)_

He frowns down at the button of Dean’s pants, weighing the odds of being able to undo it himself. _(I am calm.)_

_(No, you’re rushing and you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.)_ Dean covers Castiel’s hands with his own, drawing them away from the fastening. _(I’m more than happy to do this, you know I am. Hell, the evidence of it is right down there. But I can’t enjoy it when you’re… when you’re like this.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple, his fans flaring. _(I’m not_ like _anything.)_

_(That’s the truth. You’re unlike anything I’ve ever known.)_ Dean starts to sit up and Castiel growls, pulling his hands free and pushing him back down. _(Cas, let me up. We’re not doing this when you’re not even enjoying it.)_

_(I am –)_

_(No, you’re not.)_ He reaches up and taps Castiel in the middle of the forehead before sliding his hand down over his cheek. _(I’m in your head, Cas, and I know you’re not feeling it. I don’t want it to be like this when you’re not really here.)_

He frowns again, forehead creasing with confusion. _(I don’t understand. I’m right here, where else would I be? And I feel it when you rub against my sheath.)_

_(You’re rushing. You’re trying to fit everything into right now. I bet as soon as we get my pants off you’re gonna go straight for the goods aren’t you?)_

Castiel uncurls from around Dean’s leg slowly, sitting back on the fold of his tail. He hugs his stomach and glares to one side. _(Why wouldn’t I? We know how much time we have left together and I want you. I want all of you. In any way I can before I can’t have you anymore.)_

Dean sighs and rubs a hand over his face. The kin-connection trembles loudly with his frustration. It’s underlined with the warmth Castiel won’t name and light curls of arousal. _(I know, Cas. Trust me, I know.)_ Castiel knows Dean is hiding his unhappiness from him. He knows Dean is just as upset about their situation as he is, but there’s no sign of it in the kin-connection at the moment.

He sighs again and reaches out to run his fingertips from the base of Castiel’s sheath to the head. It makes him gasp and twitch. _(You feel that?)_

_(Of course I do–)_ He cuts off in surprise, his fans snapping wide when Dean’s fingers trace over his slit.

_(And that? Feels good right?)_ Dean is watching him closely, but his eyes are on Castiel’s face and not where his fingers are touching, stroking, pressing. _(But what about inside, Cas? Does it feel like it did this morning?)_

Castiel bites his lip. No, it doesn’t. There’s heat under his skin, but nothing even close to how it felt when Dean touched him this morning. The muscles of his sheath aren’t even twitching and it doesn’t feel like he’s getting hard within it. He sighs and stops Dean’s hand, curling his fingers around it to press into his palm.

Dean smiles and tugs Castiel forward until he unfolds against his chest. He leans back against the pillow, rearranging them so they both lay on their sides. Castiel drapes his tail over Dean’s leg, the end curling under his feet. He can still feel Dean’s arousal pressing against his scales, but the sensation in the kin-connection is barely even there anymore.

He shifts, drawing back slightly only to have Dean’s arms tighten around him. _(But Dean, you’re –)_

_(Half-hard. It’ll go away soon enough if I don’t think about it.)_ Dean shrugs and presses a soft kiss to Castiel’s forehead. _(It’s been a long, eventful day. Just go to sleep.)_

How could he possibly sleep right now? He slept most of the afternoon and his nerves are still raw from Lilith’s dinner. And that’s not even touching upon the news Dean gave him less than thirty minutes ago. His chest hurts whenever even one thought slips back to the memories Dean shared. Lilith’s cruel smile and Alistair’s smug grin. They all make sense now and if Castiel had known then, even with the threat of the pendant, he would have – he would have...

He doesn’t know. If all of this was happening back at the colony, he wouldn’t have hesitated to rip her throat out. But being among the humans has changed him. He won’t be the same fin-kin he was before if he ever gets back to the colony. Will his nest-siblings even recognize him? It’s only been a few rotations since his capture and he feels like he’s experienced more in this short time period than he has his entire life.

And it’s not all because of Lilith. Most of what has changed him can be attributed to Dean. It’s not like Castiel regrets that. It was his own conscious decision to make the kin-connection with Dean in the first place. He needed the link. It’s just that he never expected to – he never knew he would end up caring for Dean this much.

It’s that feeling, the warmth in his chest that spreads into his bones whenever he thinks about Dean, that guides his actions now. Anything he does to Lilith affects Dean too. It’s not _fair_. He’s never had so many weaknesses before and Lilith is going to take him away from Dean or he’s going to be set free and either way Dean will be gone. Why did he ever let himself fall like this? He should have known better. He _did_ know better. And he still –

_(Cas, you’re over thinking. Stop thinking.)_

_(I_ can’t _.)_ Castiel tucks his chin to his chest and presses his forehead against Dean’s clavicle. _(I can’t just turn off my brain. So much happened and there’s too many to worry about. How am I supposed to just_ stop _when I’m going to lose you no matter what happens and –)_

Dean sighs and pulls away. Castiel stops breathing, fear pulsing in his chest. Has he upset Dean now? Is he going to say that Castiel has to go back in small-sea until he can calm down? But he doesn’t want that. Small-sea still has bars and the water won’t taste right and there will be glass-walls between him and Dean.

He draws back against the wall, tucking along the very edge of the bed, and watches him carefully. Dean gets up and goes around small-sea to Sam and Jess’s bed – which they will probably never use again. He comes back with the few pillows that were left and the blanket. Now Castiel is just confused. What does Dean need the extra bedding for? Dean dumps everything on the floor and grabs fistfuls of his own blanket.

_(Brace yourself.)_

_(For what?)_ Castiel looks up at him, wary and confused. Dean’s answer is to yank the blanket out from underneath him.  It drags Castiel halfway across the bed before he rolls off and back against the wall.

_(For that.)_ Dean grins and drops the blanket to the floor too. He brings the chairs from in front of the computers over too and then gestures at the middle of the bed. _(Lay there.)_

Castiel narrows his eyes, suspicion clouding the kin-connection. _(Why?)_

_(It’s a surprise. Now move your butt or I’ll move it for you.)_ He raises his eyebrows and places his hands on his hips.

Hesitantly, Castiel slides into the middle of the bed. He folds his tail to his chest and lays on his side, watching Dean closely as he rearranges the single pillow from his bed. First he has to pull the bed away from both walls a bit. Once there is a little space, he stuffs one end of the pillow into the crack between bed and wall so that the pillow is standing up. Castiel has to twist to see over his shoulder when Dean leans over him to repeat the process with the two pillows from Sam and Jess’s bed.

_(What are you doing?)_ He rises up onto his elbows and Dean pushes him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

_(You’ll see. Now keep your head down. If you mess this up I’m gonna be ticked.)_ Dean waits until he’s sure Castiel isn’t going to move again.

He gets a few pieces of clothing from the drawers and lays them out at the top of the bed where the pillow normally goes. After these new, supposedly makeshift pillows, are complete, Dean pushes one of the chairs up next to the bed. Castiel notices that it’s in line with one of the pillows that he placed against the wall behind him. Dean shakes out one of the blankets and kneels on the edge of the bed to reach over Castiel. Despite tipping toward Dean’s legs, Castiel still twists to see over his shoulder and watch Dean tuck the edges of the blanket behind the pillow. He does the same to the pillow at the top of the bed and then drapes the rest of the blanket over the chair.

Castiel is now half hidden under the stretch of the blanket. It’s darker under here and the dark is comforting, but the blanket hangs very close to his head and it’s unnerving. Before he can even start moving to get out from underneath it, Dean’s hand settles heavily over the end of his tail.

_(Are you claustrophobic, Cas? You don’t like small spaces?)_

_(I can handle small spaces when I need to. It’s not knowing what you’re doing and what this is for that I find unsettling.)_ Castiel ruffles his adipose fins and hugs his tail tighter.

Dean strokes over his scales a few times. _(It’ll just be a minute and then I’ll be under there with you, okay? This is supposed to be a good thing, a fun thing. You’ll like it when I’m done, promise.)_

He allows a pulse of acceptance into the kin-connection and he waits. Castiel shifts how he is laying so he can watch what Dean does at the end of the bed. The other chair from the computer’s ledge is placed against the edge of the bed to line up with the second pillow and then the process with the blanket is repeated. Dean tucks the edge behind the drawers too and when he’s done, Castiel is completely alone under the blankets.

It’s not as dark as it could be. He can still make out the lights through the blankets, but it’s like they’ve  been dimmed quite a bit. It’s enough for Castiel’s glow to start to return, reacting to the lack of light. He can hear rustling on the other side of the blankets and the thump of Dean’s steps as he moves about the room.

_(What are you doing?)_ Castiel tries not to move, but his adipose fins keep rippling and it’s hard to stay still in this makeshift cave.

_(Changing. I’m not going to bed in jeans. They’re really uncomfortable to sleep in.)_ Dean sends an image of his pants in a pile on the floor next to the shirt Castiel stripped from him. _(And I’m checking on the bite you gave me. It’s not going to turn me into a were-fin is it?)_

Castiel frowns and allows his confusion into the kin-connection. Dean only laughs on the other side of the blankets. He distracts Castiel from thinking about this fake-cave – which is nothing like the fake-cave that trapped Balthazar all those seasons ago – with explanations about human legends concerning bites from creatures that could, under certain circumstances, turn a human into that creature.

_(You guys have any legends like that? Myths and things?)_ Dean asks as the lights on the other side of the blankets go out completely.

His glow grows stronger until it’s like it was in the waters of the deep. It’s actually a comfort and Castiel lets out a shaky breath, trying to relax. The end of the bottom blanket that hangs between the drawers and the chair gets lifted and Castiel shuffles over to make room for Dean as he slides in under the fake-cave wearing nothing but his underpants.

Dean grins at him and Castiel uncurls so they can lay like they were before Dean got up. He thinks about the question as he tucks his arms to Dean’s chest and fits his tail over and around his legs.   _(I don’t think we really have anything like what you said. You explained that they are based somewhat in fact, but are mostly fiction unless proven real.)_

_(Right, like with mermaids.)_ Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair again, pressing harder behind his side-fans. _(There are tons of legends about you guys in so many different cultures, but most people don’t believe you’re real simply because we never had anything more than stories and old art.)_

Castiel hums, closing his eyes. _(My colony’s history is passed down in song. Everything we sing really did occur at one time or another. But we do have stories, tales about the two-tails and their floating-reefs and metal-hands. But they are lessons to try and teach the hatchlings to stay in the deep.)_

He presses closer, slipping one arm around Dean’s back. _(We have the story of the birth of mother-sea and how she brought us into being. And there are the tales about the deep-giants.)_

_(What are deep-giants? Are they like – what do you call whales again? Sea-giants?)_

_(They aren’t ‘whales’. They’re monsters. Creatures larger than you can imagine. Beasts that could swallow this boat whole. They live in the true deep, farther down than any fin-kin dares to go. The songs we sing about them are generations older than any of my kin that are alive today.)_ Castiel starts to purr. The way Dean rubs his fingers over his scalp is mesmerizing.

Dean strokes down the back of his neck, massaging the muscles slowly. _(What about the birth of mother-sea? Are you allowed to tell me about that?)_

Castiel nods once, and then he sings. It’s easier to translate the song than it would be to take apart the song for the story it tells. He sings the notes and the words into Dean’s skin and fills the kin-connection with the images that go with it. Castiel tells Dean how in a time before time there was no sea, there was no life. The world was barren.

Steady-blue looked down upon the empty world and it was lonely. In its loneliness, steady-blue cried. Its tears became the rain and the rain filled the hollows of the world. Each tear was full of all the hope and all the love the steady-blue had no one to give it to. Steady-blue cried and cried until the seas were filled, until mother-sea – born of steady-blue’s love – raised her voice in the crash of her waves against the shore.

Now steady-blue could look down upon the world and see mother-sea and she could look up and see him, but they could never touch. They could only ever talk through steady-blue’s storms and mother-sea’s waves. And still, steady-blue was lonely. All of steady-blue’s hope lay in mother-sea, swirling in her deeps and playing in her waves.

Mother-sea wanted to see steady-blue be happy. She took all of steady-blue’s hope and love and with it she gave life. All life comes from mother-sea, and first came the creatures that walk on land. She gave them their lungs and their many tails and she sent them out to live upon the ground so steady-blue would always be able to see their children.

Steady-blue was happy, smiling with the color-arcs down upon the gifts mother-sea gave. But mother-sea was lonely too. She had sent all her children to the land where steady-blue could see them too, but her waters were empty and her deeps echoed with her pain. So mother-sea took what hope and love she had left and she brought to existence the sea-giants and their small kin. But they couldn’t go far from her surface because of their lungs. They could swim deep, but they could never fill all of her.

Mother-sea continued to give life. She made the deep-giants, fish and sharks. And when she looked upon the land and saw the two-tails that had grown from her first children, she made the fin-kin. She made them as varied as the fish that filled her waters and she gave to them all that she could. The fin-kin spread out through her, living in her deeps and filling her with their voices and their love.

And mother-sea was, at last, happy.

Castiel falls silent and the sound of their breathing fills the blanket-cave. Dean’s hands stopped moving during the song and now that it’s done, Castiel thinks he might have fallen asleep. The kin-connection is quiet between them and he cautiously reaches through it, brushing his touch along the edges of Dean’s mind. It doesn’t feel like he’s sleeping and Castiel nearly startles right out of Dean’s arms when the kin-connection suddenly fills with awe.

_(That was_ awesome _.)_ Dean’s grin is lit by the glow of Castiel’s side-fans and the markings on his face. _(You guys have a cooler one than we do.)_

_(What is yours about?)_ Castiel shifts until Dean lays back and he is almost perched on Dean’s chest, looking down at him while the blanket presses down on the top of his head. _(And why did you build this blanket-cave?)_

He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over Castiel’s side. _(I did this for Sammy a lot when we were kids. He’d get upset about having to change schools or not having a proper home or something and I’d build a fort out of the motel pillows and blankets and towels until we could hide away from the world. We’d tell stories, read comic books, pretend we were camping in a post apocalyptic wasteland. Usual things.)_ His smile turns wistful and he reaches up to drag a thumb over the scales on Castiel’s cheek. _(Basically it was our own little world. Just him and me.)_

Castiel tilts his face into Dean’s hand. He knows Dean did this to give him comfort and to share a part of himself with him. Dean treasures his memories of his little brother and Castiel feels honoured to be allowed into something that had been just between him and Sam.  He rests his head on Dean’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart under his side-fan, as Dean tells him about all the different religions humans have.

He learns about deities and all powerful beings. He learns about the different beliefs and the Gods and Goddesses and science. Castiel learns everything that Dean has to share and he learns that Dean has no particular belief in anything.

_(Why not?)_

Dean shrugs. _(I put my belief in what I can see and touch.)_ His hands glide over Castiel’s back-fans, fingers curling around the spines to rub gently at the webbing.  _(I believe in Sammy and Jess, Bobby and Pam, I believe in you more than I’m likely to ever believe in some all knowing God that let’s all the shit in the world happen without stepping in to say ‘that’s enough’.)_

_(You don’t believe in yourself?)_ Castiel lifts his head slightly. Dean has his eyes closed.

_(‘Course I do. If I want anyone to believe in me, I gotta believe in me too. I can hate myself all I want, but I still think I’m awesome.)_ He laughs, making his chest and Castiel bounce once. _(What d’you wanna talk about now?)_

Castiel slides from Dean’s chest and stretches out along his side. _(Why do you hate yourself?)_

_(Pick a different topic.)_ Dean shifts again, one arm curling over Castiel’s shoulder.

He grumbles against Dean’s shoulder and draws idle patterns on his chest with his finger. Castiel doesn’t know what to talk about now. They’ve essentially discussed life philosophies and he already knows more about Dean than he does some of the fin-kin that he’s known his whole life.

_(Can you sing?)_

Dean goes still, surprise flashing through their link. Castiel presses his hand flat over Dean’s heart, feeling the sharp increase in the beats. _(You sang a lullaby this afternoon, but it was through the kin-connection. Can you sing the same song, but with your throat-voice this time?)_

His side-fan twitches, catching the sound of Dean swallowing and the slick noise as he licks his lips. Dean is quiet for several long moments before he sighs. “Fine, just don’t tell anyone about it. My mom used to sing me this.”

The warmth in Castiel’s chest swells and he lets that flow straight into the kin-connection as he settles more firmly against Dean’s side. He starts by tapping his fingers on Castiel’s shoulder in a rhythm that must go with the song, and when he finally sings, Dean translates the lyrics. His voice sounds a little different when he sings, but Castiel likes it. It’s soft, and strong and it seeps under his skin like the song does, filling his head and leaving no room for anything else.

He must fall asleep to Dean’s singing, because it’s the last he remembers. Castiel dreams of red rain and a boiling red sea far below him, far enough that if he ever hit the water he’s sure he would die. He dreams of strong hands holding him up, keeping him from falling and the world-breath whispers the words of Dean’s song.

When he wakes again, he finds himself on his side facing the wall. Dean is pressed up tight against his back, his left arm resting heavy over Castiel’s stomach. He can feel the press of Dean’s nose in his hair and his breath hot on the back of his neck. It sends shivers down his spine with every exhale. Castiel stifles a yawn and rubs the sleep from his eyes, wondering what woke him.

The room is quiet beyond the blanket-cave and he waits several minutes, thinking someone might have knocked. There is nothing. Castiel doesn’t know what time it is. It wouldn’t have bothered him if he was back in the colony, but here everything is on a set schedule and Lilith had said she’d be stopping by this morning. He’s not going to bother trying to fall back asleep if she’s only going to be here in an hour.

The air under the blanket-cave is warmer than he’s used to and Castiel almost finds it stifling. He stretches his tail and the stiffness of his scales makes worry spiral through his chest. Castiel sits up and Dean’s arm slides down to his hip. His side-fans creak and the webbing doesn’t bend right when he twitches and flares them. The adipose fins along his tail barely move when he tries to make them flutter.

Castiel turns over carefully, mindful of his back-fans. They actually hurt when he flares them for a stretch and the worry pulses tight behind his ribs. He forces his glow to brighten out of the dim-sleep and the light makes Dean grumble and turn his face into the pillow.

_(Dean!)_ Castiel shakes his shoulder, pushing through the sleep-fog around his mind. _(Wake up.)_

He groans again and hunches his shoulder under Castiel’s hand. The fog is clearing, replaced with a grumpy burn along the edges of the kin-connection. _(What is it?)_

_(I’m too dry.)_ He presses his worry over the displeased tremble in their link. _(I don’t know how long we’ve been sleeping, but it’s very uncomfortable. My fans won’t flex properly.)_

Dean swears loudly, snapping awake and sitting up quickly. He gets a face full of blanket and immediately swats it out of his way, tearing it off the chair in the process. The other blanket comes down too when Dean kicks the second chair away from the bed, sending it crashing into small-sea. Dean pulls the blankets out of the way, tossing them to the floor. He makes sure none of the chairs are in the way before he pulls Castiel to the edge of the bed roughly.

He carries Castiel to the same spot on the floor where he had dumped the water on him before. There are still wet spots, little pools of water that Castiel seeks out with his fingers. The lights turn on and he hisses, hating the sting to his eyes and the feel of his glow fading away. Dean is indelicate with the bucket of water. He upturns the entire thing over Castiel’s head and back-fans again without any warning and before he can even wipe the water from his eyes, Dean is already quickly moving to fill it in small-sea.

Urgency is flashing bright and white through the kin-connection and Dean nearly trips over his own feet coming back with the full bucket. He pours that more carefully over Castiel’s tail, both front and back. Castiel curls his tail in the puddles wasted on the floor, spreading the water thin with each pass through them.

Dean fills the bucket once more and gets the blue-sleeve. He kneels next to Castiel and puts the blue-sleeve on, using the squishy-white to vacuum the air out of it like he did when he took the shower. Once that is on, he starts scooping the water with his hands and working it into Castiel’s adipose fins, massaging the webbing until they’re pliant and they move properly.

Castiel sits up and copies Dean. He takes care of the fins by his hips while Dean works toward the end of his tail. There’s anger and blame boiling through the kin-connection and Castiel glances up from the maintenance of his fins to see the dark frown on Dean’s face.

_(This isn’t your fault.)_

He flinches from Castiel’s thoughts and shakes his head. _(I should have set an alarm or something. The last time we did this it was barely seven thirty, and we were probably asleep before nine. It’s nearly sunrise right now and I should have known better. What if you hadn’t woken up? You could have been hurt or you might have –)_ Dean cuts off and shakes his head again, his anger flaring brightly.

_(We both fell asleep, Dean. If anyone is to blame, it’s the both of us.)_ Castiel reaches for his hands to stop him but Dean leans away. He huffs and flicks the end of his tail, spraying water.

_(Stop it! I gotta make sure all your fans are okay.)_ Dean grips the pointed end past the webbing of his end-fans _._

Castiel flexes and ripples all his fins and his fans. _(There’s no need to mask your worry with anger since I am clearly okay. Now stop hating yourself for a simple mistake that we_ both _made.)_

Dean stops with the near frantic movements of his hands and he sits back heavily on his heels, glaring down at his knees. Castiel sighs and twitches his tail, curling it around Dean’s knees as he slides closer. When he’s close enough, he reaches out to run one hand through Dean’s hair. It’s unkempt right now and Castiel likes it like this. He repeats the motion several times, distracted by how soft Dean’s hair is compared to his own.

“Dude, you’re petting me.”

_(You did a good job. In my experience, petting is what humans do when they’re pleased with someone.)_ Castiel tilts his head when Dean snorts and ducks out from under his hand.

_(Yeah, with_ pets _.)_ Dean runs his hands through his hair in a practiced movement, styling it like he usually has it. _(Or when you’re being condescending to children or something.)_

He frowns and lets his hand drop. _(But you touch my hair all the time.)_

_(That’s different.)_

_(How?)_

Dean’s ears go red around the edges and he shakes his head. The flush spreads down the back of his neck. _(Because I like your hair. And you always look like you’re enjoying it. And I just… really like touching you. Any chance I can get, I’ll take it. Even if it’s just your hair.)_

Castiel’s insides twist in a pleasing flutter. Dean told him the same thing yesterday before – before what he isn’t going to think about. He trusts Dean and Sam to get him out and if they share their plan with him, he’ll help out with what limited human knowledge he has about the boat and his situation. There are some things about the plan, like letting Bobby and Pam know when the escape is going to be made, that he wants to ask about. But that can be saved for another time.

Right now there’s heat curling through the kin-connection and Dean is looking at him with an tilt to his head that is quickly becoming familiar. Dean stands up suddenly and disappointment flickers deep in Castiel’s chest. He was too upset last night to get to do anything with Dean that he wanted to, but now… Right now he isn’t thinking about last night at all. He’s thinking about yesterday morning and the last time he had Dean flushed red around his neck like that.

Dean goes to the drawers at the end of his bed and Castiel watches him. He sends little echoes of annoyance and disappointment into the kin-connection, letting them break along the edges of Dean’s mind.

“Just a minute…” Dean murmurs, rustling around in one of the drawers. He comes back with his bathroom case and Castiel wilts, his fans drooping.

_(You’re going to make me brush my teeth, aren’t you?)_

_(Yeah, I am. We didn’t do it last night before bed and if you want to kiss me this morning, you’re going to do it after you’ve brushed your teeth.)_ Dean removes the toothbrush from the bag and puts some toothpaste on it before he gives it to Castiel. He gets the other bucket from under the ledge and places it next to him. _(You brush up and spit into the garbage can when you’re done. I’m going to make a quick run to the bathroom.)_

Castiel’s pauses with the toothbrush in his mouth. His fans flare and he looks up at Dean sharply. He doesn’t like the idea of being left alone. Dean immediately runs a hand through his hair, shushing him quietly. _(I’ll be right back. I’m not allowed to go anywhere else anyways. I’m going to try to get some information out of the guard that escorts me and if we’re lucky I’ll find out something good.)_

His fans flatten again, the spines narrowing. The back-and-forth movements of brushing his teeth are slow and uneven. _(We’re going to have to cut the kin-connection, aren’t we? Someone might be able to tell that we’re linked if they know the signs to look for.)_

Dean’s thoughts sour too and he grumbles under his breath. _(Yeah, I know. But it’ll only be for a few minutes, I swear. I’ll ask if they can send Bobby up later to help me take the bars down. While he’s here, I’m going to go take a shower too. I doubt they’ll let me take you down with me again, but we can ask Lilith when she shows up.)_

He shakes his head and hisses. _(Just hurry.)_

_(I will. I’ll brush my teeth when I get back, then I’m all yours.)_ Dean winks and goes to the bed to get dressed and put on his boots.

Castiel is done brushing his teeth by the time Dean is ready to go. Dean isn’t wearing the blue-sleeve anymore when he helps Castiel back to the bed. He presses a kiss to his forehead before handing him his phone. Castiel looks down at it curiously. There is a still image on the screen, but it’s faded. In the middle is a circle with a tilted triangle at the center of it.

_(Why don’t you watch this until I get back, okay?)_ Dean’s amusement chokes the kin-connection and he pushes one of the buttons on the phone.

The sound is very quiet and he has to hold the phone very close and angle his side-fans out to hear the words being said when the image starts moving. It’s the first time he’s ever seen moving pictures and it takes a moment for Castiel to be able to focus. There isn’t much difference between seeing something move on a screen and seeing it happen before him, although the screen is much smaller.

When he realizes what he’s looking at, all of Castiel’s fans flare as wide as they’ll go. His adipose fins ripple wildly and he can feel his heart start to pound hard in his chest. He looks up at Dean in surprise, only to find that Dean is gone and the kin-connection has been severed. Castiel looks back down at the screen and swallows thickly at the moving pictures.

The angle on Dean isn’t good enough for him to be able to see his face properly or what his hands are doing. Dean’s side is in the way, blocking most of what Castiel would _really_ like to see again. But Castiel can clearly see himself. He can see his dim glow and the way he can barely hold still. It’s not long into the video before the moving-pictures-Castiel is unsheathed and then Dean is touching him and Castiel can remember, vividly, how it felt to have Dean touch him then.

His throat works around quiet gasps and it’s hard to swallow, hard to breathe. Castiel’s skin feels like it’s too hot as _heat_ spreads thick under his scales. It settles heavily in his gut and the muscles of his sheath start to twitch. He bites his bottom lip, tempted to put his fingers to the slit at the head of his sheath until Dean returns. It’s just not the same. He likes Dean’s touch better than he own, and Dean did say that he would be back in only a few minutes.

The moving-pictures-Dean is curled forward over the moving-pictures-Castiel. His body isn’t quite blocking everything his hands are doing, and that’s where Castiel is looking. He keeps swallowing and it never seems to be enough. His chest feels light and something is fluttering hard in his lungs, over his ribs and down into his stomach before rising back up again.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Castiel stifles an embarrassing noise of surprise, flinching so hard he nearly ends up dropping the phone. He scrambles to keep his hold on it and once it’s secured in a death grip to his chest, he looks back up at Dean with wide eyes. Dean grins down at him. He looks out of breath and his hair is wet. Castiel glances toward the door, checking once to see that the slide-lock is in place.

He throws the phone aside and reaches for him. “ _Dean_.”

Dean kicks off his boots and crawls onto the bed. He’s not wearing a shirt with buttons now and Castiel wastes no time in pawing it up his back and over his head. The shirt needs to come off before he can kiss him, otherwise he’ll have to stop kissing Dean before he removes it. By the time he has his hands on firm skin, Dean is already kneeling over him. Castiel tilts his chin back and Dean’s kiss is rough, searching. It forces him back onto the bed and the piled clothing that was their pillows.

His back-fans are pinned under him awkwardly and he grunts into the kiss. Dean draws back, never leaving his mouth once, to allow him to reposition himself. He settles over Castiel’s tail like he did before, one leg on either side. Dean tastes like toothpaste. He tastes like _Dean_ and it’s addicting and delicious. Castiel can’t get enough of the smooth lines of his teeth and the slick slide of Dean’s tongue along his own. It’s the little gasping breathes between each kiss that make his blood boil.

Castiel’s fingers find Dean’s hips and they grip hard, dipping under the loose gray pants he’d put on over his underpants. He slips his hands underneath them completely, pushing beneath the thin layer of his underpants too. Dean hisses against his lips at the cool touch of his fingers and Castiel squeezes his – humans and their silly words, he can never remember them all – his ‘ass’. It’s a motion Dean has done a number of times to the swell of Castiel’s tail when he is the one on top of Dean.

He pulls Dean down while he presses up with his hips and they both make pleased, startled groans. The friction against his sheath is wonderful, nearly as good as yesterday, and the muscles are twitching almost painfully. Castiel presses the length of his tail into the bed, rolling his hips to meet Dean thrust for thrust.

“Cas –” Dean hisses against his lips, fingers sinking into his hair and tugging hard. “Make the damn kin-connection.”

Another groan escapes him and he rolls his head back. Dean’s mouth moves over his chin and down his throat and he keeps repeating the request in heated whispers against his skin. Castiel gropes for Dean’s mind and the kin-connection establishes with a rush of warmth, arousal and desire. It’s enough for Castiel to gasp loudly, his adipose fins rustling over the sheets.

Dean licks at the mark on Castiel’s neck and the one on his shoulder. He doesn’t linger for long by the collar and his teeth play over his nipples in the journey he takes down his chest. Castiel whines as Dean moves further down his tail, dislodging his hands. His nails drag up Dean’s back and it earns him a particularly hard squeeze to his sides where Dean’s hands have settled.

Castiel runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, looking down his chest to watch Dean’s tongue work over the flat planes of his stomach. When he reaches where skin gives way to scales, Dean places open mouthed kisses from one hip to the other. Dean is careful not to bite or suck too hard, careful not to leave any marks and Castiel _hates_ it. He _wants_ Dean to mark him. But he knows Lilith’s rules and he despises them as much as he does her.

_(The guards said Bobby will be bringing us breakfast in a few hours and Lilith will be eating lunch with us.)_ Dean traces the dotted line of his glow pattern that arcs up by his hip, following it where it dips under his sheath. _(How do you want to spend our time til Bobby gets here?)_

Castiel’s hips twitch up sharply when Dean’s warm mouth works up over his sheath. He can’t keep his hands still, ghosting them over Dean’s head, his neck, his ears and his cheeks. _(This – just like this –)_ He’s hard in his sheath, he knows he is and any moment he’s going to slip free and – Castiel’s breath catches in his throat and his back bows just at the mere thought of Dean’s mouth on him _there_.

He can feel Dean smile against his scales and his thoughts are teasing as they touch his own, translating the warm words murmured against his tail. “Just this? You don’t want to do anything else, Cas?”

The sound of Dean’s voice sends shivers through his bones and Castiel presses his fingers into his neck. _(More – want more. Don’t you_ dare _stop.)_

Dean laughs softly and then his lips are moving again. Not in words, at least not any that Castiel has heard before. This is a whole new language that leaves a path of liquid heat over his scales, searing under his skin and spreading into every corner of his body. When his tongue reaches the head of his sheath and the sensitive slit, Castiel’s heart almost stops with a sudden worry that he won’t be able to stand that kind of touch there – that the sensation might be too much for him to bear and –

And he can’t think anymore. Not with Dean licking open his sealed slit and dipping the very tip of his tongue in to run along the sensitive edges. Castiel claps both hands over his mouth to smother the strangled noise that squeezes itself from his throat. He gasps against his palms and arches almost violently from the bed the more Dean licks and pushes, his tongue working and twisting and gliding and Castiel isn’t even unsheathed yet and he can’t _breathe_.

Dean thumbs are rubbing circles on his hips and then there’s that feeling – the tensing of the muscles of his sheath – and Castiel nearly whimpers Dean’s name in warning. There’s a noise of surprise and then Dean’s too warm breath is ghosting over the already heated skin of his erection.

“Couldn’t hold it back, huh, Cas?” Dean sits back over his tail and Castiel glares at him over the edge of his hand.

He rubs languidly at his own erection that pushes out the front of his grey-pants. “If you want me to do anything more, you’re gonna have to move your hands. I’m pretty sure I’ve said that I like your voice.”

_(The sounds are embarrassing, Dean. The guards might hear.)_

“Let them. They can stew out there in their jealousy.” He grins and starts pushing his pants down, wiggling his hips to get them low enough to free his penis.

The moment Dean has done away with his pants, struggling out of the them and tossing them in the direction of his shirt, Castiel reaches for him. Dean bites his lip at the touch and they both watch the curious, questioning movement of his fingers. He follows all the edges of Dean’s erection and drags his fingers over the head that drips a clear liquid.

_(What’s this?)_ Castiel brings his hand back, looking closely at the liquid on his fingertips. It’s different from the milky white release Dean had before.

Dean swallows, a hard noise that makes Castiel’s side-fans twitch to catch it. “Precome. It… uh… it’s to clean… out… _Jesus, Cas._ ” He hisses a sharp breath when Castiel sucks his fingers clean.

Castiel tilts his head, confusion flickering into the kin-connection and running over the constant heat storming through Dean’s head. Dean pulls his hand away from his mouth, replacing his finger with his tongue in a searching kiss that leaves Castiel gasping and breathless. He’s leaning over Castiel, most of his weight resting on his good arm.

“I –” He takes a shaking, deep breath. “I probably should have told you before – yesterday – that you shouldn’t do that without making sure that I’m clean first. You’re damn lucky that I am – that I got checked before we set sail – and I haven’t heard anything about your blood tests coming back funny or anything.” When his only response is confusion, Dean sighs. “Sorry, I’m just – just clearing my head. We should be safe, y’know – and I don’t want to get too worked up before anything good happens.”

He kisses him again, a slow, lazy meeting of their mouths. _(Tell me what you want to do, Cas. Anything you want, I’ll do it.)_

Castiel trembles at the images Dean sends into the kin-connection, pulsing with warmth and arousal and everything he’s come to associate solely to Dean. He groans into the kiss and lays his hands over Dean’s shoulder, carefully avoiding the bandage on his bite mark. It’s only a little bit of pressure, a tiny push, and Dean is grinning against his lips.

“You want my mouth on you, Cas? Wanna feel my tongue on your cock?”

Another strangled noise leaves him and he nods, pushing at Dean’s shoulders again. Castiel knows Dean likes the sound of his voice and the noises he makes. He lets a quiet moan fall from his lips at the slide of Dean’s fingers over his penis and he waits until Dean meets his eyes before he lets two words slip out, barely even a whisper.

“Please, Dean.”

That’s all it takes. Dean sits back sharply, reaching behind him for the top drawer. He’s quick with getting whatever it is he needs and Castiel recognizes the box with the shiny squares in it when he pulls that out. Dean’s hands are efficient with every movement, shaking out one of the squares and tearing it open. There’s a round disk inside that unfolds into something else – a fake-skin of some kind – and Dean rolls it down over Castiel’s penis. It feels weird and it makes Castiel squirm.

But then Dean folds down and presses a firm kiss to the base of Castiel’s erection. The sensation is different through the fake-skin, but it garners no less of a reaction from him. Dean places kisses all along the base, gently tonguing the pink folds of muscles that attach his penis to his sheath. Castiel wants to watch, but every touch of that wet, warm tongue anywhere along his length makes his spine bow from the bed. He has a very good view of the wall behind him as he whines and arches and makes any number of sounds.

His adipose fins never stop moving, rippling and rolling where Dean isn’t pinning them to his tail. Castiel tries to cover his mouth to hide the cry of surprise when Dean moves up, working his tongue over his frenulum and along the glans before his lips – mother-sea his _lips_ – close over the head of his erection. He can’t hide the keening noise that escapes around his fingers at the first hard suck.

Castiel loses track of everything after that. He doesn’t even know what Dean does and it feels far too soon before the world goes white again. His brain fills with a buzzing and there’s a distant crash followed by a curse. The heat singing through his veins boils down eventually, but little lights spark before his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling.

Dean leans into view, concern etched in his features and pulsing along the edges of the kin-connection. “You okay, Cas?”

He grumbles a purr of confirmation and his limbs feel heavy when he moves them, trying to sit up. Castiel needs to reciprocate. It’s Dean’s turn and that’s twice now that Dean has made him orgasm before him. It will be the last time.

Castiel slips his hands, ignoring how they shake slightly, over Dean’s back. _(Switch places with me.)_

Dean is slightly hesitant, worry still flickering through his thoughts, as he takes Castiel’s place stretched out down the middle of the bed. Castiel sits on the fold of his tail between Dean’s legs, but he’s looking down at his own lap. There’s no mess on his stomach or his scales this time. He’s already receding into his sheath and even his penis has no trace of his release on it.

_(That’s what the condom does. Keeps things clean and helps keeps girl from getting pregnant.)_

_(The fake-skin?)_ Castiel looks up and Dean is taking another of the shiny squares from the box. _(Those are ‘condoms’? Neither of us are female, why would we have to worry about being impregnated?)_

Dean laughs and applies the circle he takes from the shiny square the same way he did to Castiel. _(I told you, to keep us clean. If you’re gonna blow me like you said you wanted to last time, I don’t wanna accidentally discover the first human/fin-kin disease or get you sick or something. I shouldn’t have let you lick up what you did last time either and I’m gonna kick myself if you catch anything.)_

Castiel frowns down at the condom covering Dean’s erection. _(Will it taste different from your skin?)_

He shrugs and his hand slides over his penis, stroking it gently as he watches Castiel. _(Probably. They’re not flavoured or anything. It tastes weird at first, like latex. But – oh Jesus, I should have checked to see if you were allergic to latex first.)_

_(I’m fine.)_ Castiel waves his hand dismissively and pushes Dean’s hands away. _(Tell me what to do.)_

Dean takes another shaky breath and he grabs the pillows from their spaces along the edge of the bed. He stuffs them behind his back and shoulders, propping himself up so he can see. _(Just be careful of your teeth. I can’t stress that enough. Otherwise… feel it out like you did everywhere else. You’ll be able to tell easily enough through the kin-connection if I like what you’re doing or not. And don’t forget what you learned last time.)_

Castiel tilts his head and presses his thumb to the spot behind Dean’s balls. _(You’re talking about here?)_

His breath stutters and he nods. Castiel keeps his thumb there, rubbing firmly as he licks curiously at the head of Dean’s penis. He makes a face at the taste. It’s nothing at all like Dean and in comparison, he hates it. Castiel licks along the length, tracing with his tongue the same path he took with his fingers.

Dean’s hips twitch under his hands and he can make out how the muscles in his stomach are trembling. Castiel is very careful when he actually closes his mouth around the head of Dean’s penis. The breathy noises his side-fans catch are the best fuel for his actions. Dean guides him with images and silent pleas through the kin-connection. His hands are fisted tightly in the sheets, his knuckles white and his fingers trembling.

Castiel’s jaw starts to get tired after a while and he gags every time he takes too much of Dean. He doesn’t stop though, he can’t stop. Not when Dean is making all those nearly quiet noises. They’re the biggest encouragement even though Castiel knows that he’s not very good. Dean’s reaction is nothing like the one he had. And even if he wants to give Dean the same kind of pleasure, he knows that no one ever feels anything the same way as someone else.

At Dean’s direction – insistence – he works his free hand over the rest of him in even strokes that match the bobbing of his head. Sometimes he moves his lips and tongue – always mindful of his teeth – to Dean’s balls to taste his skin before returning to the odd taste of the condom over his penis.

He shifts his position, trying to get comfortable while he adamantly keeps working at Dean’s erection. When he moves, his hands slips just a little bit and Dean makes a truly amazing noise then. It surprises Castiel and he sits back quickly, worried he did something wrong even though there is pleasure sparking hot and bright through the kin-connection and that sound was nowhere near unhappy.

_(What did I do?)_

Dean flushes red all the way down into his chest. _(You kinda – your thumb sorta – it pressed over –)_

Castiel looks down and pushes Dean’s legs apart more to see what he could have possibly touched. He’s not entirely sure what he’s looking at and he pushes the image into the kin-connection. Dean covers his face with his hands and shakes his head. _(That’s – I told you about it before. In the shower.)_

_(Oh. That’s your –)_

_(Jesus, Cas! Don’t_ say _it!)_ Dean groans and tilts his head back. _(Just finish… okay? I’m – I was really close – )_ He jerks violently when Castiel presses his thumb over the small, puckered opening, rubbing lightly. “Fuck!”

He bends back down, licking along Dean’s penis again while alternating between pressing over the pucker and rubbing firmly at the spot behind his balls. It doesn’t take much longer after that for Dean to sink his fingers into Castiel’s hair and hold him in place. He can feel something warmer than Dean’s skin through the condom against his tongue.

When his hands fall away, Castiel sits back again and licks at his lips. The taste of the condom is still there and he doesn’t like it. The end of the condom is now filled with the milky white of Dean’s release and Dean sags against the bed, breathing hard. Sweat is gathered at his temples and across his chest and Castiel thinks – behind the safety of the walls that always keep a small section of his mind closed off – that Dean is beautiful like this.

Dean sighs softly and rubs his hand over his face. “Shit – that was –”

_(Terrible? I’m not very good.)_

He laughs and sits up slowly to peel the condom off. “It was your first time. You can’t expect to be awesome at it right from the get go.” Dean ties off the end of the condom and tosses it across the room toward the ledge-bucket he’d called a garbage can. Neither of them watch to see if it goes in.

Castiel slides forward and tugs Dean into a kiss. It is neither fast or slow, hard or soft. Its entire purpose is to replace the taste in his mouth until the only flavour left is _Dean_. He ignores the soft laughs huffed against his mouth and follows Dean when he lays back against the bed. The kisses lose them more time than everything else did and Castiel purrs through most of it.

_(I should put some clothes on. Before Bobby gets here.)_  Dean pushes against his thoughts gently.

He doesn’t like the idea of Dean wearing clothes. It’s a human thing, stupid and unnecessary. But at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone else to see Dean without them. He wants to keep the never ending stretch of Dean’s skin to himself for however long he’s allowed.

Castiel pulls back, watching as Dean gets  dressed and tidies up the room. He lays the towels over the mess of water still on the floor and puts the chairs back by the ledge. While he does that, Castiel returns all his clothes and the box of condoms to the drawers. He rearranges the pillows at the top of the bed and drags both blankets up off the floor. He’s not sure what to do with them and leaves them piled at the end of the bed. Dean can deal with them when he’s done with the rest of the room.

Dean is putting the garbage can back under the ledge when someone knocks at the door. He looks up at the clock and raises his eyebrows before glancing at Castiel. Curiosity and confusion pulse quickly between them.

“Huh. Bobby’s early…”

 


	24. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But those are all things he can’t have, at least not right now. Some of them are things he’ll never get to have no matter what. If any fin-kin knew about how Castiel feels for a two-tails, what he’s done with one – He doesn’t even know what they would do. The colony might exile him, maybe even kill him, just to keep the secret of the existence of fin-kin safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the wonderful thelittlearchangelthatcould.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)!**

The knocking happens again and Castiel curls into the space behind the drawers, eyeing the door warily over top of them. _(If it’s too early, maybe it’s not Bobby? Who is it, Dean?)_

Confusion pushes through the kin-connection between them, but Dean brushes calm over Castiel’s thoughts in soothing sweeps. He shrugs and steps up to the door, knocking on their side when whoever is on the other knocks again. “Who is it?”

“Open the damn door, you idjit! My arms are getting tired.”

 _(Yeah, that’s Bobby. We can keep the kin-connection with him here.)_ Dean unlocks the door and pulls it open. “You’re early.”

Bobby comes in carrying a bucket full of water in one hand. In the other he’s holding one of the white containers of food – probably for Dean – and has a long rectangular container pinned under that arm. Castiel recognizes it as the box that holds many different tools. The last time Castiel saw one of those, it was when Dean was fixing the lock on the door. The first time he’d seen one was when Bobby installed the speakers and microphone in small-sea.

“I’d still be eating if Meg hadn’t dumped your food with me and said to get it to you before it got cold.” Bobby grumbles, handing the bucket off to Dean before putting everything else on the ledge and stretching his back. “Shut the door, feed your mermaid, eat your breakfast and let’s get those damn bars down so I can get back to work – seeing as I’m the only competent worker keeping this tub running.”

Dean shuts and locks the door before he puts the bucket down at the end of the bed. Castiel leans over the edge to look into the water and several fish dart around inside. They look different from the ones that Bobby has brought him before. These are a species he’s never seen before. He sends tendrils of curiosity into the kin-connection.

 _(Some of the ship staff were reassigned into fishing for fresh food for you. We’re halfway across the Atlantic right now, so they’re going to be catching different fish more and more.)_ Dean shrugs and sits down at the ledge. _(Try not to make too big a mess, okay? That_ is _where we sleep.)_

 _(Don’t worry.)_ Castiel slides from the bed, curling his tail underneath himself. He sits with the bed to his back and dips his hands into the bucket. Without his claws, it’s harder to keep a fish from slipping through his fingers. It takes both hands to catch one and it struggles, gills flapping, as he bites into it. He eats carefully, trying not to make a mess on the floor or in his lap.

Instead of eating, Dean is talking to Bobby. They discuss whether Dean should go shower before or after they remove the bars from over small-sea. Their conversation cuts off suddenly and surprise sparks sharply through the kin-connection. Castiel looks up. Both Dean and Bobby are staring down at the open white-box on the ledge.

“You said Meg gave you this?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

 _(Dean?)_ Castiel touches his mind with confusion. _(What’s wrong?)_

 _(It’s – there’s a –)_ Dean reaches into the small container and lifts out a piece of paper. _(There’s a note in my scrambled eggs.)_ He unfolds the paper until it’s much bigger and more surprise flickers hard through their link. _(Well, that’s – I have no idea what Meg’s up to. But it looks like she’s finally picked a side.)_

Castiel’s fans flare in surprise. _(What’s that supposed to mean?)_

 _(She wrote us a note. Instructions for – I’m not really sure. Something to do with our cell phones, I think. Sam needs to see this too.)_ He pulls out another piece of paper and a pen. “I’m making a copy for Sam. Can you find a way to get it to him?”

Bobby makes several grumbling noises and leans back against the ledge. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll figure out a way to get it to him. Lilith hasn’t said I can’t see those two idjits.”

“Yet.” Dean folds up the paper he was writing on and gives it to Bobby. “I’ll text him to let them know that you’re gonna be carrying a message.”

Bobby looks critically at small-sea and sighs heavily. “We’re going to need ladders to get this done. Eat your breakfast. I’m going to go get those.”

Castiel watches Bobby leave and Dean pushes his chair over to where Castiel sits. He brings his container of food and sits down on the floor next to him. It takes only a slight shifting until he can curl the end of his tail around Dean’s hips and lean against his shoulder. Dean grins at him briefly before starting to eat. They eat in a comfortable silence, warmth spinning through the kin-connection from both of them.

When Bobby returns, he’s carrying two of the tiered platforms. Dean is almost done and he shoves the rest of his food in his mouth quickly before getting up. Castiel still has a few fish left in the bucket, but he’s eaten as much as he feels like. After last night, his appetite hasn’t returned completely. He adds the last bones of his current fish to the pile next to him and catches Dean’s hand before he can walk away.

_(Can I go in small-sea while you’re taking down the bars? Is there any way that I can help?)_

Dean squeezes his fingers and looks at Bobby. “If Cas is in the tank, is that going to be a problem?”

Bobby shrugs and starts setting up the tiered-platforms next to small-sea. “We’ll be taking them down in sections. Door first. You’re going to have to go out on to top of them to remove the hinges and someone is going to have to undo the screws on the wall. Probably best to do that from inside the tank itself so there’s no weight on the bars then. Can he work a screwdriver?”

Castiel tilts his head at the translation. He remembers how Dean has used the screwdriver to fix the lock on the door and it looked simple enough. Dean rubs his thumb over Castiel’s knuckles and a curl of curiosity worms its way along the edges of his mind.

 _(I can try.)_ He tugs on Dean’s hand and lifts his other arm, gesturing for Dean to pick him up.

“He’ll give it a shot.” Dean grins at Bobby and crouches so Castiel can put both arms around his neck.

He leaves Castiel’s tail hanging, wrapping one arm around his waist as he stands. Castiel pushes up with his tail too, helping what little bit he can. The way Dean holds him is almost like Castiel is sitting in his arms and it’s a little reminiscent of how Dean held him the morning in the rain during the escape. He wraps his tail around Dean’s waist and holds tight as Dean walks around small-sea.

Bobby follows behind them and helps Dean step up onto the platform, steadying him in place with a hand to his back when Dean starts to tip backward. Castiel pulls himself over the glass-wall while Dean pushes him up. The water chokes him with the first rush through his gills, but it’s only a moment before Castiel is breathing properly.

It feels amazing to be in the water again and Castiel swims many laps to stretch out his muscles. He only stops when Dean closes the bars and moves one of the tiered-platforms onto the actual platform. Dean climbs up on top of the bars and Castiel swims around under him, watching as he uses a screwdriver on pieces of the bars.

 _(Here, Cas, hold this.)_ Dean drops the screwdriver between the bars and Castiel catches it before it can sink very far.

Together, Dean and Bobby lift the moveable pieces of the bars from their place and Bobby turns to drop them on Sam and Jess’s bed. Dean has to get down from on top of small-sea over the front-wall. Bobby helps him to make sure he doesn’t fall. It’s at Dean’s instruction that Castiel finds the small squares at the edges of the bars where they connect to the grey-wall.

Every five bars there is a little square. Each square has four round bumps in the corners with a little line down the center of each bump. Something that looks a little like a cylinder is connected to the metal square and slips over the end of the bar. Castiel holds himself steady with one hand around the bar and fits the flat end of the screwdriver into the line of the bump. It takes a few tries before he figures out how to turn it without dislodging it from the little line or dropping it.

The little bumps come out of the squares and they have pointed ends. Castiel lets them sink to the floor of small-sea when they pull free of the squares. The squares slide away from the wall and along the bars once all the bumps are removed. Dean and Bobby remove the clamps holding the bars in sections to the glass edges. When they lift them at the front glass-wall, the ends by the grey-wall fall into the water. By the time they get the bars out and away from small-sea, the square-cylinders have slid off the bars.

They repeat the process for all the sections of the bars. It is only done five times until all the bars are lined up against the ledge. Dean moves the bars from Sam and Jess’s bed to put them with the others. Bobby opens the door and Castiel watches him call two of the three guards waiting outside in to help. Together, the three of them start carrying all the bars out.

“Good job, Cas. Get all the screws and clamps and bring them here. Make sure you get them all because I sure as hell don’t want you getting hurt by sitting on one or something.” Dean sticks his right hand into the water and he opens and closes his fingers a few times.

Castiel collects all the little ‘screws’ and the ‘clamps’ and gives them to Dean along with the screwdriver. He puts them all in the box with Bobby’s tools and he folds up the tiered-platforms, putting them by the door. Bobby returns and he and Dean speak again.

 _(I’m going to go take a shower. Bobby is staying here.)_ Dean quickly gets what he needs and folds them up in the clothing he’ll be taking. _(I’ll be quick, I promise. And we’re going to have to cut the kin-connection while I’m gone.)_

He flares his fans unhappily and swims in tight circles. _(And when is Lilith coming?)_

 _(She’s eating lunch with us. It’s barely nine yet, so we’ve got a few hours.)_ He taps at the glass once and waves slightly. _(I’ll see you in ten minutes.)_ Dean severs the kin-connection between them and Castiel hates the sudden silence in his head.

Castiel circles once around small-sea before darting straight from the front glass-wall. He breaks from the water sharply and pulls himself over the edge. It digs into his stomach painfully as he leans over it, but he ignores it completely. “Dean!”

He stops at the door and looks back at him. “Shit, Cas! What the hell are you doing?”

Dean drops his clothing on the ledge and crosses back to the small-sea. Castiel reaches for him, wincing at the press of the glass-wall into his stomach. Even though Bobby is here and Dean said he doesn’t kiss in front of him, Castiel gives him plenty of time to stop him as he cups his face. Dean looks surprised for a brief moment before he stands higher and presses a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

Castiel’s gills flutter uselessly and Dean breaks away quickly, shoving at his shoulders. “Get back underwater, dumbass.”

He sinks back into small-sea and settles curled on the floor. Dean leaves and Castiel is left alone with Bobby, who is looking blandly at a book. Castiel watches him for a few minutes, but Bobby does nothing more than flip through the book. He looks bored and Castiel gets bored just looking at him. Sighing, he draws away from the glass-wall and swims lazy laps around small-sea.

It takes more concentration than it should to keep him from thinking about what’s going to happen when Lilith shows up. And he tries not to think about what’s going to happen in at least seven days and how little time he has left with Dean. Castiel shakes his head to try and dislodge those thoughts and focuses instead on carrying out the warrior stretches.

Dean comes back before he is done and Castiel makes the kin-connection with him the moment the door is closed behind him. Castiel relaxes and completes his positions while Dean and Bobby speak a little longer before Bobby takes his box of tools and leaves with it.

 _(What are we going to do now?)_ Castiel unfolds slowly and rolls his shoulders, flaring his fans and rippling his adipose fins.  

 _(I’m just going to text Sam a bit. I don’t really know what to do after that.)_ Dean shrugs and arranges the blankets on the bed before sitting against the wall. _(You got anything special you’d like to do?)_

Castiel runs his hands over his tail and stares down at his lap. _(I would like to clean my scales and my fans. I’d like to hear you sing again, and play your guitar.)_

There are a number of other things he’d like to do too. He’d like to claw his way to freedom and pay Lilith back for everything she’s done to him and Dean. He’d like to see his family again, and introduce them to Dean. He would like to take Dean back home with him, or think of some way he could still see Dean and Sam and Jess if he ever gets his freedom.

But those are all things he can’t have, at least not right now. Some of them are things he’ll never get to have no matter what. If any fin-kin knew about how Castiel feels for a two-tails, what he’s done with one – He doesn’t even know what they would do. The colony might exile him, maybe even kill him, just to keep the secret of the existence of fin-kin safe.

Castiel flinches from those thoughts and Dean pulses concern against the edges of his mind. _(It’s okay, Cas. We can do those things. I’ve got Sam’s scent-free soap and I can ask for some cloths. We can clean your tail and your fans.)_

His fans snap out in surprise and Castiel starts rolling and folding the webbing of his adipose fins, glancing at Dean nervously. _(I told you before... only bond-mates help with the cleaning of scales.)_

He shrugs, and doesn’t look up from his phone. _(Then I’ll just help with your back again. It’s not that big of a deal.)_

Castiel frowns, his side-fans flickering unhappily. _(It is for me.)_

Dean looks up sharply, surprise and regret pulsing into the kin-connection. _(Sorry, Cas, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just – I don’t mind helping you. Even if it’s something only a bond-mate does.)_

He shakes his head, brushing everything aside with forgiveness. Castiel pushes away from the floor and swims in circles a few times. Having glass-walls between him and Dean is uncomfortable, but being out of the water is annoying. He pushes an image of the head-set into the kin-connection, followed by the image of the guitar.

 _(I want to hear more of your songs.)_ He swims close to the surface, breaking the waves with his back-fans before rolling back down to the floor. _(Do you have any ones that are your favourite?)_

 _(Yeah, I got a few. I can even play them on the guitar.)_ A slow smile pulls at Dean’s lips and the warmth he lets into the kin-connection increases marginally. It makes the fluttery feeling in Castiel’s chest rush excitedly into his stomach. _(What about you? Are there any colony songs that you like better than all the others?)_

Castiel thinks for a few moments about all the songs he knows before nodding. _(Lilith is going to want me to sing her a new song every time she visits. It will be easier for me to sing them if I pretend they’re for you instead of her. I can sing my favourites then, if you don’t mind waiting.)_

Dean stiffens, his smile falling slightly. _(That’s more than okay, Cas. You can do anything you need to help you get through whenever Lilith is being a bitch.)_ He closes the phone and puts it aside. _(I’m done texting with Sam. He’ll let me know when Bobby gives him Meg’s note.)_

 _(Will you sing now?)_ Anticipation starts burning through his bones.

He leans over the edge of the bed and drags out the case for his guitar. _(You’re pretty damn pushy about getting me to sing.)_

 _(Songs are important to my colony. And you have a nice throat-voice. I like hearing you talk and sing.)_ Castiel watches closely as Dean takes the guitar out and plucks at the strings a few times, twisting the little knobs at the end of the long thin piece.

A pleased sensation flickers lightly along the edges of the kin-connection and Dean’s smile grows again. _(Flattery will get you everywhere, Cas. This is one of my favourites. It’s by a band – a group of musicians and singers – called ‘Led Zeppelin’. It’s called ‘Ramble On’.)_

Dean didn’t get the head-set microphone, which means Castiel isn’t going to be able to hear the music properly in small-sea. Castiel seals his gills and his tail slaps the floor once as he rises up. He breaks the surface and coughs the water from his lungs. As Dean starts playing, Castiel crosses his arms over the edge of glass-wall and rests his chin on them.

He angles his side-fans to catch every note the guitar twangs and every word Dean sings. The words get translated through the kin-connection and the emotions that line them get sadder the more he sings. Walls snap up around Dean’s mind, hiding the darker emotions. Dean’s voice eventually drops out when his fingers still over the strings and he sighs.

 _(What’s wrong?)_ Castiel tilts his head, concern breaking against the walls surrounding Dean’s thoughts.

Dean shakes his head and his smile is forced. _(It’s nothing, Cas. The lyrics just hit kinda close to home. I can sing a couple more songs before my throat gets tired. Wanna hear my other favourite? I can never decide which of these I like better. It’s called ‘Traveling Riverside Blues’.)_

It’s three more songs before Dean stops singing because his throat is sore. But he keeps playing the guitar, strumming and plucking the strings in tunes foreign to Castiel. They’re still pleasing to listen to and they go fast, or slow, or an odd combination of both. Dean hums for some of them. Castiel wants to sing too, but he doesn’t know the lyrics or the tunes. He notes that all the songs have sections that repeat, but he doesn’t want to take the chance and mess it up. If he interrupts, Dean might stop completely.

 _(Okay, okay, that was a fun way to waste an hour. My fingers are getting tired.)_ Dean spreads and curls his fingers several times before putting the guitar aside. _(Do you want to clean up now?)_

Castiel pushes his agreement into the kin-connection and moves away from the glass-wall. He is waiting on the other side of small-sea when Dean steps up onto the platform after putting away his guitar. After they get him out, Dean places Castiel on the floor in front of small-sea and leaves him there. He takes the bucket at the end of the bed and dumps the few fish inside into small-sea before filling it with water.

Dean puts the bucket next to Castiel and checks some of the drawers under the ledge. _(Well look at that, we actually do have cloths here.)_ He tosses one to Castiel and gets the soap from his bathroom kit before kneeling on a towel next to him. _(It’s going to be harder to clean the soap off when we’re done.)_

He shrugs and dips his cloth into the water before holding it out to Dean. _(We’ll deal with that when we get to it. Soap, please.)_

 _(Clean quick and I’ll dump water over your scales when you’re done.)_ Dean squirts a little of the jelly onto the cloth and pulls the bucket closer to himself.

Castiel shrugs again and rubs the folds of the cloth together until the jelly becomes foam. He scrubs it over his lap and his hips and down the fold of his tail. When he pulls his hands away, Dean uses the cup to dump the water over his scales. Castiel stops Dean from using his dry cloth to wipe the water and soap away. He takes the cloth to do it himself.

Dean sighs. _(Really? You’re going to stop me for that?)_

 _(It_ matters, _Dean. It’s very significant and you can’t just… do that.)_ Castiel switches back to the soap-cloth and continues cleaning the rest of his scales. _(It’s means more than you’re willing to give.)_

 _(I know what it means, Cas. You said bond-mates do it. And bond-mates are basically married couples.)_ Dean sits back on his heels, scooping more water into the cup. _(And y’know what? Un-married people do things married people do all the time.)_

Castiel wipes away the water he pours again. _(Yes, but that’s for_ humans _and I am_ not _human. Fin-kin don’t do that. And I don’t – I_ can’t _start thinking of you like that.)_ He tries very hard not to think about how he’s already thought of Dean like that too many times to count. And he completely ignores that he has sung the bonding song to him a few times already.

Dean’s thoughts are still hidden from before and he stays silent while Castiel finishes cleaning his scales. Castiel doesn’t look at him again, keeping his face tilted down as he wipes away the last of the soap and water. He spreads his back-fans for Dean to clean the spines and the webbing. Castiel doesn’t stop the purr that rumbles in his chest when Dean rubs the cloth between his shoulder blades, along his spine and up again on either side of his back-fans.

“Are you mad at me?” Dean asks softly, his breath on the back of Castiel’s neck.

He shakes his head and leans back into the press of Dean’s hand. _(No, Dean, I’m not mad.)_

Warm lips brush against the base of his neck and a wet tongue traces a path to his shoulder and the top-spine of his back-fan. Castiel does his best to hold his fans spread and still as Dean licks along the spine to its end. He bites his lip and hunches his shoulder when Dean sucks at the tip. A gasp escapes him as Dean mouths the webbing between the spines and rubs his thumbs where it connects to his back.

Dean spends several minutes tracing and mapping Castiel’s back-fans with hands and mouth. By the time he’s done, Castiel’s hands are trembling and his breathing is shaking. He knows nothing about humans and how long they can go before being ready to be physical again, but it’s only been a few hours since they had touched each other like this last. Does Dean want to do more already?

Castiel presses his hand down against his sheath. The muscles are barely twitching, but heat is pooling heavy in his gut and _want_ is singing through his veins. Is this what it’s always like? Just a few touches and he’ll become aroused? Or is it only because it’s Dean touching him? He doesn’t know. Everything is still so new and Castiel has nothing to compare it to. He’s never experienced arousal before Dean and something hot hisses in his chest at the thought of anyone else touching him like Dean does.

Hot hands slide over his sides, nails dragging over the blue marks of his glow-pattern. Castiel’s adipose fins ripple as Dean’s too clever fingers press over his chest, finding his nipples and pinching them lightly. Dean pulls him back against his chest and Castiel automatically folds his back-fans down. That too hot mouth finds the scaled edges of his gills and Dean’s wicked tongue charts a path to his side-fan.

 _(What are you – why are you –)_ Castiel shivers and tilts his head back against Dean’s shoulder when he drags the edge of his nail over one nipple. “ _Dean_.”

“I told you, didn’t I?” Dean’s voice is deeper than usual and draws over Castiel’s skin like the insistent push of the deep currents. “Any chance I can get, Cas. And we’ve still got an hour or so to kill before Lilith gets here. How hilarious would it be if she eats lunch sitting not even five feet from where I made you scream?”

Castiel arches into the touch on his chest, his throat working to make sounds but none coming out. His hands scrabble across his scales for something to hold on to. He hisses in surprise when he’s dragged backward. Dean settles with his back against small-sea and his knees rise on either side of Castiel’s hips. His hands burn as they travel over Castiel’s stomach, skirting the seam of skin and scale.

“You up for another go, Cas?” Dean whispers against his side-fan, lips brushing spines and webbing around every word. “Can I touch you again?”

 _(Yes._ Yes. _But I want to touch you too.)_ Castiel presses his hands to Dean’s knees.

“After.” Dean drags one fingertip over the slit at the head of Castiel’s sheath, making him squirm and stifle a cry. “You first.”

It takes all of his willpower to get Castiel to pull Dean’s hands away and hold them out of reach. “No.”

Surprise burns hard through the kin-connection, smashing the walls Dean had around his mind. “No? You don’t want to do anything right now?”

Castiel shakes his head. _(No, I will not go first. It’s your turn.)_ He struggles forward out of Dean’s lap to turn around and face him. _(This time I want to make you orgasm before me.)_

Dean could object before anything more happens, but he doesn’t as Castiel pulls at his arm to move him away from small-sea’s wall. He pushes him back against the floor and settles heavily over him. Castiel kisses the surprise from Dean’s face. He knows that he is inelegant with the press of his tongue and how he licks over his teeth, but Dean doesn’t seem to care.

When Castiel catches his bottom lip between his teeth, Dean groans against his mouth. His hands grip hard over his hips. He groans again, appreciation curling through the heat in the kin-connection, when Castiel starts to roll their hips together. Dean’s hands move to clutch the swell of his tail, holding tight as he thrusts up against him.

Castiel can feel Dean’s growing erection rubbing along his sheath. Sharp bolts of _want_ stab through him, dragging at his bones to settle like lava under his scales. He only pulls away from Dean when the muscles of his sheath tense and his penis slides free. Dean lets go of Castiel long enough to open his jeans, but then his hands still.

 _(Condom. I should get – we need them.)_ Dean starts to get up onto his elbows.

He growls, pushing Dean back down. _(They are pointless. I don’t want anything between us.)_

Dean sighs and shakes his head. “It’s so neither of us gets sick. What if you’ve got something in your spunk that could make me sick. Would you want that to happen?”

Concern flickers hard in his chest. _(No, of course not.)_

 _(Then we need the condoms. Hell, we should probably move to the bed anyway. It’ll be better on my back.)_ Dean sits up, forcing Castiel to sit back too. “Isn’t it better to be on a nice, soft bed?”

 _(It makes no difference to me.)_ Castiel doesn’t think he’s pouting, but he glowers at Dean anyway as he stands. _(You’re the one who started it here. I believe you said something about being close to where Lilith will be eating her lunch.)_

He doesn’t care where or how he gets to have Dean, as long as he gets to have him in all the ways that Dean teases him with the images in the kin-connection. Castiel pushes his memories of his mouth on Dean’s penis and what it felt like to have his erection heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t particularly have any craving for that again, but he wants to taste what Dean is like there without the weird taste of the condom in the way.

Dean stumbles slightly and his cheeks turn red as he crouches next to him. _(Yeah, well. Five minutes on the floor and my back already hurts. C’mon Cas, we can frot on the bed.)_ Dean lifts him like he did before and Castiel hisses as his erection rubs against Dean’s shirt over his belly. _(Sorry, sorry. Just a second.)_

It’s with surprising gentleness that Dean puts him down on the bed. He strips off both his shirts as he gets the condoms from the top drawer and locks the door. Castiel watches, fingers twitching to reach for Dean as he removes his jeans and underpants. Dean puts one of the condoms on himself first before putting one on Castiel. It feels weird when he rolls it over him and Castiel can’t help but squirm, his adipose fins rippling unhappily.

 _(Sorry. I know it sucks, but it’s for the best, Cas. Maybe if we can get you tested, make sure you’ve got nothing that could get me sick and there’s nothing that I’ve got that could make you sick we won’t have to use them anymore. But in the meantime, we should use these.)_ Dean strokes him a few times and any discomfort Castiel had about the condom quickly fades away. _(Now, how do you wanna do this? Me over you? Under you?)_

 _(Get on your back.)_ Castiel slips out of the way, making room on the bed. “Please, Dean.”

Anticipation curls hot through the kin-connection and Dean grins at him, wide and lewd and pleased. He salutes with two fingers and winks once before clambering into place and settling comfortably against the pillows. Looking at him, Castiel realizes there are too many places on Dean that he hasn’t sucked any bruises into his skin. He’s gotten his chest, his neck, his stomach and his hips, but his legs are still completely unmarked.

Castiel pulls himself into place between Dean’s legs. He lifts one and starts pressing open mouthed kisses from his knee up along his inner thigh. He watches how the higher he moves, closer to Dean’s erection, the more Dean’s toes twitch and curl. It’s an interesting phenomenon but it doesn’t match how Dean’s fingers dig into the bedding.

Dean groans when Castiel sucks a new mark into the white skin of his inner thigh. It’s another one of those sounds that make Castiel’s fans flare possessively, eager to hear similar noises. Castiel leaves two more marks on Dean’s legs, one in the crease of his other thigh and behind his knee. Dean’s fingers brush his forehead and Castiel looks up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Get up here, Cas.” He curls his fingers in Castiel’s hair and tugs lightly.

It makes him growl and he smacks his hands away before uncurling. He plants his hands on either side of Dean’s chest and licks insistently into his mouth. Castiel hisses in surprise when warm fingers fold around his erection and heat presses along the exposed side. Dean’s hips roll once and the length of heat slides along his penis in a delicious movement that almost makes his arms give out.

Castiel looks down between their bodies, staring at where Dean’s hands hold them both and he’s thrusting into the tunnel his fingers and thumbs create. It suddenly feels like his lungs are too small and he’s not getting enough air. Dean keeps moving his hips in sharp little jerks and Castiel is transfixed. He only looks away when Dean bumps his chin into his forehead.

“Stop perving on our dicks and fucking _kiss me_ already.” Dean pants heavily into his hair and Castiel lifts his head only to be stunned breathless again.

He has no description for the way Dean is looking at him, green eyes hooded, dark, _burning_. His freckles stand out in the red of his cheeks that spreads over his ears and down his neck. Castiel thinks, hidden away again behind the private walls of his mind, that Dean is beautiful. Not in the same sense that he is physically attractive – although he most certainly is – but in... in _everything_.

“Dean –” Castiel murmurs his name once, soft and quick before leaning in to kiss him again.

It takes a few experimental movements of his hips before they find a steady rhythm. The kin-connection is boiling with the heat of their desire and arousal, curled thickly with the weight of the warmth Castiel can’t be bothered to restrain even slightly. His arms tremble with the effort to hold himself up and everything is singing through his veins, lighting him up from the inside in a way his glow never has.

But it’s too soon. He wants Dean to orgasm before him this time. Except there’s no way he can possibly stop the roll of his hips. Not when Dean keeps making those breathy noises against his mouth. His adipose fins won’t stop rippling and he can feel them fluttering against Dean’s legs. The end of his tail drags back and forth over the bedding in sharp arcs while frustration pulls through his insides. He wants Dean to orgasm first, but he’s not sure how to ensure this happens. Dean has more experience than he does and everything just feels so _good_.

Some part of that must leak into the kin-connection because Dean breaks from their kiss with a groan. An image shifts into the link and it takes Castiel several long moments to realize that Dean is asking him to change how he is laying. Castiel drops to his elbows and he puts his weight on one arm. Following Dean’s unspoken instructions, he brings up his other hand and presses his fingers to Dean’s lips.

Like yesterday, the webbing between his fingers stretches against the corner of Dean’s mouth. But his tongue works over his index and middle finger, licking over and under the webbing between them. If this was an attempt to get Dean to orgasm before him, it’s a very poor one. All it does is remind him of what that mouth and tongue could do to his erection instead.

Another image pushes into the kin-connection and Castiel’s fans snap-out in surprise. He stills and stares down at Dean with wide eyes. Dean is insistent with the image, the request, and he lets go of Castiel’s fingers with a slick, wet sound. One of his legs curls up and Dean raises his eyebrow too.

_(If you want me to come first, Cas, this is the best way to do it.)_

Castiel makes a high-pitched noise that sounds surprisingly like a whimper, but he moves his hand as directed. He first rubs at the spot behind Dean’s balls that makes him groan before he pushes lower, finding by touch the small, puckered opening he’d touched this morning. Dean trembles when Castiel rubs over it gently.

His hips jerk violently when Castiel presses against it more. _(Whoa, okay, we definitely need more than just that. Get the lube, Cas. That bottle in the drawer.)_

He pulls away quickly, scrambling back over the bed to the drawers. Dean strokes himself languidly while directing Castiel how to the open the bottle and squeeze what he needs onto his fingers. This time, Castiel sits back and watches as he presses his fingers to the puckered entrance again. Dean makes another amazing noise and his hips push off the bed.

Castiel’s breath catches in his throat when the tip of his finger slips in. Dean’s head tilts back against the pillow and Castiel carefully, oh so carefully, pushes in further. He has to fold his hand uncomfortably so that the webbing doesn’t catch awkwardly on the edge of the opening. Dean’s heels dig into the bed and his hips push up, forcing Castiel’s finger in further.

 _(Just – just a little more. Curl your – crook it a bit – no more to the –)_ His back lifts from the bed too and his hips start rocking when Castiel’s finger brushes over a spot that feels just a little different form the rest of Dean’s insides. “There! Right there!” Dean’s fingers curl tightly in the bedding, knuckles white and his whole body starts shaking.

He keeps pressing at the spot inside, rubbing carefully. The best sounds Castiel has ever heard keep forcing their way out of Dean’s throat and Dean sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle them. Castiel narrows his eyes at that and brings his other hand from resting on Dean’s thigh to press at the spot behind his balls too. Dean cries out, a sharp, delicious noise that burrows under Castiel’s skin and scales, pulsing through his veins in liquid heat.

Dean doesn’t make any noise at all when Castiel folds over to press his mouth to the base of Dean’s penis. He caresses his erection with tongue and lips, working up to its head where it is curved against Dean’s belly. Castiel is surprised by the fingers in his hair, holding him in place like Dean did this morning. Pleasure burns through the kin-connection and Dean stops breathing altogether for several moments before he drops uselessly to the bed.

Castiel sits back slowly, withdrawing his finger gently. He feels surprisingly proud to have made Dean orgasm first. He smiles smugly down at Dean, waiting patiently until he can focus again. It takes a few moments before Dean takes a deep, shaky breath and actually looks at Castiel. A lopsided grin twists his lips and he fumbles slightly while removing the condom.

 _(Get up here.)_ He makes a lazy gesture with his hand after tying the condom off and tossing it aside.

Castiel slides into place over him again. The kisses this time are slow, deep and Castiel loves them. These are his favourite and his adipose fins ripple in delight. Dean hums into the kiss, flicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Castiel purrs and runs his hands along Dean’s sides.

 _(So what do you want to do, Cas?)_ Images of his options flash through the kin-connection and each one makes his fans tremble, their spines flexing almost violently.

He starts rolling his hips again, pushing his erection against Dean’s stomach. Castiel breathes heavily against Dean’s mouth, groaning quietly between every other gasp. He hisses in surprise when Dean forces his back-fans down and wraps his arms around his waist. It pins his erection between them and Castiel whines against Dean’s lips. Dean’s fingers seek out the edges of his webbing on his back and they rub firmly while Castiel thrusts against him.

 _(This enough for you, Cas?)_ Dean presses their foreheads together and he’s still flushed and panting too. “Anything you want me to do?”

Castiel shakes his head. It’s only a few moments more before the white burns through his mind and he can’t even hear Dean’s voice. His elbows give out and he collapses against Dean completely, his chin on his shoulder and breathing the dark scent of Dean.

He rubs his hand over Castiel’s side gently. “Cas, y’gotta take the condom off before you –”

_(I don’t want to move.)_

Dean grumbles and rolls them onto their sides. Castiel knows what he’s doing, but he can’t be bothered to care. He barely even feels as Dean removes the condom or when he slides back into his sheath. He _does_ care when Dean’s heat leaves him and he murmurs unhappily, groping blindly across the bed. Dean catches his hand before he has a chance to open his eyes and then a warm stretch of skin is pressed against his chest. His arm gets folded around what feels like Dean’s waist and Castiel spreads his fingers over Dean’s stomach. He drapes his tail over Dean’s legs and feet, ignoring the feel of clothing under his scales and webbing.

Castiel curls around Dean’s back. He tucks his other arm under the pillow and nuzzles his nose into the short hairs at the back of Dean’s neck. A purr rumbles in his chest and Dean’s stomach jumps under his hand when he laughs.

 _(If you think that was awesome, wait until we actually have sex.)_ Dean lays his hand on Castiel’s, his fingers resting over his webbing. _(It’s even better inside.)_

“Mmmm.” Castiel can’t be bothered to answer further. His body feels satiated and he is content. He is surrounded by Dean’s warmth and his scent fills his senses. Everything is Dean and everything is practically perfect at the moment.

He’s not sure what happens between that moment of contentment and when the door rattles against the lock, but he must have fallen asleep. Dean is already dressed and pulling on his boots when Castiel sits up, stifling a yawn and rubbing at his eyes.

 _(It’s lunch time.)_ Dean touches his thoughts softly and Castiel is awake immediately, his fans spreading wide. _(Just stay calm, and listen to what she says. I’ll ask about shower privileges and if Alistair is with her – I won’t let him do anything too invasive, okay?)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple and he looks toward the door nervously. _(You won’t be able to do anything while she has the pendant. I’ll –)_ He takes a deep breath and forces his fans and fins to lie flat. _(I’ll be fine. You can let them in.)_

Dean kisses him once before they sever the kin-connection between them. He crosses to the door in no particularly hurry. When he opens it, he steps back to allow whoever is waiting in. “Sorry for the wait. I had to make myself presentable.”

“It’s appreciated.” Lilith steps into the room, looking around slowly. Her smile starts gradually when she sees Castiel, but it falls away almost immediately. Fear pulses in Castiel’s chest, nervousness twisting his stomach. Did Dean leave a mark on him somewhere? What could they have done to upset her now?

“Where is his jewelry?” She turns to Dean sharply. “Where are the chains?”

Dean points at the ledge. “Cas doesn’t like them.”

Lilith’s upper lip curls and she narrows her eyes at him. “Put them back on. Now. And Castiel, make your link with me.”

“It’s called the kin-connection. You have to call it by words he knows or he’s not going to know what you’re asking him to do.” Dean picks up the chains on the ledge and brings them to the bed.

His eyes are apologetic as he gestures for Castiel to hold out his wrists and moves his arms out of the way to put the chain around his waist. Castiel frowns down at the chains as Dean clips them into place and he ruffles his fans unhappily.

Lilith makes an annoyed noise. “Castiel. Kin-connection.”

This he understands and he narrows his side-fans. He nods and sets up as many walls between them as he can before he reaches for Lilith’s mind. The touch is as cold as it usually is and it makes Castiel’s back-fans shuffle irritably. Lilith smiles at him before nodding toward the door. A few guards come in carrying a chair and a large silver half circle of some kind.

One of the guards takes the table from the wall on the other side of small-sea and moves it to the center of small-sea’s front glass-wall. He puts the chair he brought in at the table on the side where the chair is looking toward the door. Lilith sits there. That guard leaves and the other places the silver half circle before her. He lifts it again by a handle on the top and Castiel is surprised to find that it is just a shell-like cover protecting the food inside.

The guard who left returns with one of the ottomans from Lilith’s desk-room and he places it at the end of the table. One of the computer chairs is placed opposite Lilith, its back to the door. Both guards leave and they shut the door behind them.

“So… Alistair not joining you today?” Dean stands near the end of the bed, close enough for Castiel to reach if he needs to touch him.

Lilith is rearranging the utensils that were under the silver-shell with the food. “He’s busy. Bring Castiel to the ottoman and take your seat.”

It’s a short trip for Dean to carry him to the ottoman and Castiel immediately flattens his back-fans and folds his hands in his lap. When Dean sits in the computer chair, Castiel curls the end of his tail around Dean’s nearest leg. Dean doesn’t react physically and Castiel hopes he doesn’t mind this small piece of comfort that he is taking.

“That plate is for you and that one is for Castiel.” Lilith points at two of the three plates on the silver disk left under the plates after the silver-shell was lifted. “You may serve them.”

Dean places a plate with a pale pink slab laid out in the middle of it in front of Castiel. His own plate has a hamburger and a pile of fries. Lilith has something else entirely and Castiel doesn’t care what it is. Dean gives Castiel a knife and a fork as well. At Lilith’s okay, they both start eating. Castiel doesn’t ask what the pale-pink is on his plate. The first piece that he cuts off tastes like fish.

The entire meal is eaten in silence and Dean is the one who cleans up when they’re done. He takes the large silver disk with all the dishes on it to the door and Castiel watches him give it to one of the guards. He takes his seat across from Lilith again and his is expression is distant when he looks at her. Castiel’s fingers are fidgeting with his adipose-fin as he looks between them.

“I trust you haven’t used the kin-connection at all.” Lilith leans back in her chair and folds her hands on the table top. “I’d hate to have to punish you both for breaking such a simple rule.”

“I’d look a lot happier if we did, don’t you think?” Dean’s upper lip curls back in a sneer. “He barely knows any human words. We haven’t been able to carry on any kind of conversation. It’s a pain in the ass and you know it.”

Her smile is small, but it’s not as cruel as Castiel is used to see from her. “I do it for your own good, Dean. It will only be harder for you both when I leave Florida with him if you’re connected on such an intimate level. Which, I’m sure, is the only reason you’re basically committing beastiality.”

Dean’s hands curl into fists where they rest on the table. “Cas isn’t an animal.”

“If that’s what gets you through the night.” She turns her head just slightly to look at Castiel. “You haven’t marked him again. That’s good.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to follow rules.”

Lilith doesn’t look like she’s paying attention to Dean anymore. She’s looking straight at Castiel and he drops his eyes to his lap, forcing his fans to keep from flaring in defiance at her. Hatred is seething through his mind behind the walls that keep Lilith out of his thoughts. She has the pendant around her neck again and he’s not sure if he would be able to move quick enough to get at her before she could get out of his reach.

_(Sing.)_

Castiel flinches at the command, but he nods. He straightens his shoulders and sits up properly. For one moment, before he takes a deep breath, he meets Dean’s eyes and remembers the promise he made to him earlier. When Castiel closes his eyes, he imagines that Dean is the only one in the room. He picks his favourite song about the deep-giants.

Dean will have no idea what it means, but Castiel can tell him later. The song sounds different than he knows it, without water to carry the notes. He sings about the deep-giant that left the true-deep and sunk one of the islands of the two-tails, devouring it whole before every colony of fin-kin from every ocean gathered to drive it back into the true-deep.

When he falls silent, Lilith is smiling brightly. The song isn’t exactly a happy one and her reaction is confusing. Castiel thinks she doesn’t understand the tone anymore than she does the lyrics and she just enjoys making him do what she wants.

_(Another.)_

Castiel fists his hands against his scales. He sings their story of how the world was created. This time he keeps his eyes open and he sees the recognition on Dean’s face. Lilith isn’t looking at him and hopefully she doesn’t notice or question it.

_(That one was much nicer. Thank you, Castiel.)_

He dips his head, keeping his eyes on the table top. Lilith pats the top if his head and his blunt nails dig into his palms as he restrains himself from breaking her wrist.

“Dean, call the guards to come get my chair and ottoman.”

The computer chair skids across the floor when Dean stands and he uses short, harsh words with the guards at the door. He moves Castiel back to the bed when they take Lilith’s chair and the ottoman away. Lilith stands at the corner of small-sea while Dean moves the table back against the wall by Sam and Jess’s bed.

“See, now? That wasn’t so bad. Was it?” Lilith looks at Castiel and he shakes his head in response to the question she translates into the kin-connection.

Aside from the hateful thoughts in his head and all the vicious things he’s thought of doing to her, her time with them wasn’t bad at all. Althought now, while they had her alone in the room, it would have been the perfect time to attack her, but she has Dean’s family under watch too. If anything happened to her, Castiel and Dean wouldn’t be able to stop the guards from hurting them as soon as word of what happened to Lilith gets out to the other guards. Assuming that anyone on this ship is actually loyal to Lilith beyond the end of her life.

“Good. Now give me a kiss goodbye and I’ll see you again for supper.”

Castiel’s fans flare and he sees how Dean tenses over Lilith’s shoulder. Her hand goes to the pendant and Castiel forces his fans down into submission. Bile rises at the back of his throat at the thought of him being the one to kiss Lilith, but he has no real choice. He takes a deep, steadying breath and nods. Her hand doesn’t move from the pendant as she leans in.

His adipose fins ripple unhappily and Castiel sits up straight enough to press a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. He jerks back quickly and resists the urge to lick his lips. Lilith pats him on the head again.

“Good boy, Castiel. One day I won’t even have to tell you to do it.” She turns to leave and she has her hand on the door handle when Dean clears his throat. Lilith looks to him, her eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you want a goodbye kiss too.”

Dean doesn’t look her straight in the eye while he speaks. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I was actually just wondering if Cas can be allowed to come with me to the showers? He’s never liked being left alone in here and the last time we were there he said he liked sitting under the spray. It reminds him of the deep sea currents.”

Castiel’s fans flicker in surprise and he stares openly at Dean. He hadn’t told Dean that when they were in the showers. He hadn’t even thought of that until long after they had left the showers. He looks hopefully between Dean and Lilith, his adipose fins rippling.

Lilith stares at Dean, her eyes narrowed for several quiet moments. She turns away without answering and what little hope Castiel had dwindles to nothing. Her back is turned to them when she actually says anything. “Two days. If you both behave for the next two days, then I will allow Castiel to accompany you to the showers. If either of you mess up between now and then, he will be completely confined to this room and Alistair will babysit him when you’re showering or in the washroom.”

“Thank you.” Dean’s shoulders relax slightly and Castiel sighs in relief.

 _(You may break the link now.)_ She glances at Castiel once and he doesn’t hesitate to sever the kin-connection with her.

The door shuts behind her and neither one of them moves for a few minutes. When Castiel is certain that she isn’t going to come back, he brushes his thoughts over the edges of Dean’s mind. The warmth that Castiel is beginning to crave whenever their link is broken floods through the kin-connection. It is wrapped in relief.

Dean locks the door before he drops next to Castiel on the bed with a heavy sigh. _(Jesus, I thought you were going to claw her eyes out at some point.)_ He kicks off his boots and flops back on the bed, swinging his legs up and over Castiel’s tail.

 _(I certainly wanted to.)_ Castiel rubs the back of his hand over his mouth. _(Especially when she made me kiss her.)_

There’s a moment of silence before Dean sits up again. _(Yeah, speaking of that.)_

Castiel looks at him, curiosity tingling along the edges of the kin-connection. Dean pulls him in by the collar and Castiel only has a moment to feel indignant about that before warm lips, still salty from the fries, press against his own. He makes a small, surprised noise and opens to the curl of Dean’s tongue and the press of his fingers along his jaw. Finally Dean sits back and there is a smug smile on his face, matched by the satisfaction that curls through the kin-connection.

_(That better?)_

He purrs and leans against Dean’s chest. _(Much, thank you.)_

They lay back against the bed in silence for several long minutes before Dean clears his throat. _(So… what was that first song you sang?)_

Almost absently he lifts one of Castiel’s arms to remove the chain clipped around it. While Castiel explains, Dean removes the other two chains and drops them over the edge of the bed. Castiel’s explanation is almost finished before it gets interrupted by the beeping of Dean’s phone. It’s a message from Sam. Dean starts to send many of his specially coded messages to him and Castiel watches as he taps away at all the buttons. By the time Dean is done, Castiel has almost been lulled back into a doze.

 _(Bobby delivered Meg’s note to Sam and Jess with their lunch.)_ Dean tucks his arm around Castiel’s shoulders again, hugging him to his side. _(They figured out that it definitely involves our cell phones and they’re going to test out the instructions on Jess’s phone first. That way if they mess it up, we’ll still have mine and Sam’s to communicate with. I wasn’t exactly sure what Meg’s instructions where for, , but now that I know, I’m pretty sure I can figure it out. I’ll give it a shot later.)_

 _(Why not right now?)_ Castiel stretches out along Dean’s side. He tangles his tail between and around Dean’s legs and hooks one arm over his chest.

Warmth touches gently through the kin-connection, brushing over Castiel’s thoughts lightly. _(I don’t really feel like moving right now.)_


	25. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel purrs at the sweep of fingers over his lower back. _(This is a comfort to me, Dean. The kin-connection, your heat, your touch, this –)_ He intensifies the warmth in the link to make his point. _(All of it comforts me more than words possibly could. You’re helping simply by being you.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: thelittlearchangelthatcould and the-impending-birdemic.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)!**

Castiel floats aimlessly, staring at the ceiling as he drifts from one side of small-sea to the other. He already exhausted himself racing his shadow from wall to wall and he’s mentally tired too. It takes too much energy to focus on _not_ thinking about next week, on _not_ thinking about how little time he really has with Dean.

Instead, he spends his time in small-sea thinking about Dean. He has made his plans for what he wants to try next and he’s thought about everything they could do between now and whichever comes first – his freedom or the flying machine. His scales and skin have been tingling ever since and a good portion of his concentration is going to diverging from that current of thinking. It would be entirely unacceptable to have any kind of barrier – especially the glass-walls – between him and Dean while either one of them is aroused.

Dean has been hunched over the table with his phone and Meg’s note. Since putting Castiel in small-sea almost an hour after Lilith had left, Dean has been sending messages back and forth with Sam and Jess regarding the instructions Meg gave them. He had moved the table they ate their lunch on back in front of small-sea, but this time the long-edge is pressed up against the glass. The only break he’d taken this whole time was to go to the bathroom.

He has a small tool kit with miniature versions of the same tools in Bobby’s toolbox. Dean’s been using the mini-tools on the phone, taking it apart and putting it back together before kicking his chair back to the computer’s ledge. He uses a long, black cord to connect his phone to the computer and that is generally where Castiel stops paying attention until Dean’s frustration burns through the kin-connection and he returns to the table to take his phone apart again.

By the fourth time it happens, Castiel rolls backward and drops down to rest on the curl of his tail in front of Dean. _(I thought you were going to wait until Sam and Jess experimented on Jess’s phone. Are you still able to contact Sam despite what you’ve done to yours?)_

 _(I haven’t fucked anything up, if that’s what you’re asking. It still works every time I put it back together again.)_ Dean props his chin up on one of his hands and scratches his head with what looks like a miniature screwdriver. _(Her instructions are clear enough, but there’s something I’m doing that isn’t getting it to work.)_

_(How will you know if it’s worked or not?)_

He shrugs and pokes at the insides of the phone. _(I’m supposed to get a message from Meg the moment I’ve done it right. Sam says they haven’t gotten Jess’s phone to work yet either.)_ Irritation curls around his words. _(This is stupid. There is no way Meg is smarter than all three of us put together.)_

Castiel presses his palms to the glass-wall and looks down at the phone too, squinting at all the shiny pieces that make up its insides. _(Would it be so bad if she is?)_

_(It’s an ego thing, Cas.)_

_(I think you’re very smart, Dean.)_

He grins up at Castiel, wide enough to make the little lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Appreciation thrums happily with a sharp burst of warmth through the kin-connection. _(Thanks, Cas. How you doing in there? Bored yet?)_

 _(A little, but don’t let that distract you. It’s important to figure out Meg’s instructions.)_ Castiel shrugs and pushes away from the wall to swim a few lazy laps.

 _(I could take a break and we could play some more games? I think I’ve got a pack of cards in my things.)_ He looks toward the drawers at the end of his bed, scratching absently at the end of the blue-white cast on his arm.

Castiel pauses, his adipose fins flaring to slow him to a stop. He would like to learn more of Dean’s games. All the games he used to play at the colony revolve around swimming or the tasks his kin would carry out during the day, or word games that Dean can’t play. But it’s been a few hours now since lunch and he’s not sure exactly what time Lilith is coming for supper. He doesn’t want to start learning a game only to have her show up and ruin their good time.

He smiles at Dean and shakes his head. _(I’m fine. Could we play games after supper?)_

 _(Yeah, of course.)_ The warmth curls along the edges of Castiel’s mind and Dean’s eyes are soft.

Something heavy thumps in Castiel’s chest. He’s not sure what it is, but it feels good. Yet at the same time, a fleeting worry twists in his stomach. The worry is one he’s never felt before and it’s a little confusing. For the first time that he can ever recall, Castiel feels self-conscious.

Uncertainties about his appearance start to flicker behind the walls in his mind. Are his scales dull or are they shiny? Is the webbing of his fans clean or does it have any tears? Are the spines crooked? Do his adipose fins ripple properly or are they too stiff? Is his glow bright enough? His teeth sharp enough? His claws aren’t even worth thinking about since Alistair cut them.

He’s never been concerned about any of these before and he doesn’t understand why all of that suddenly feels like it matters. And his paranoia over these matters only increases the longer Dean looks at him. Castiel finds himself wondering if he or Dean missed any spots during the cleaning earlier. He catches himself before he can start wishing that one of his brothers was here to double check after his cleaning maintenance for him before he would even allow Dean to see him.

 _(Cas?)_ Dean brushes concern against his mind and Castiel recoils in surprise. _(You okay?)_

Castiel shakes himself out and starts swimming again. _(I’m fine. It’s nothing.)_ He hides his anxiety and hopes that he swims too quickly for Dean to be able to see any imperfections in his tail or his fans.

It’s on his third lap, while he’s absently chasing the few fish that he didn’t eat this morning, that he catches his reflection in the mirror still set up against one wall of small-sea. It’s been moved since it was first placed between the platform and the glass-wall. Instead of completely blocking the platform, it’s now been shoved closer to the back wall, revealing at least half of the platform. Castiel fidgets with his adipose fin and glances toward Dean, checking to make sure that he is sufficiently distracted by the phone before he drops into place before the mirror.

He twists, turns and folds himself while flaring and rustling his fans and fins, trying to see everything to double check. Everything looks fine, but Castiel feels like he’s missing something. His hair isn’t too long and if he had any scars, he would bear them with pride. But maybe his fans don’t spread wide enough?

_(What are you doing?)_

Castiel flinches and jerks away from the mirror, moving halfway across small-sea before he even looks at Dean or acknowledges the confusion and amusement swirling through the kin-connection. He fights the blush that wants to make his cheeks burn and he finds it hard to meet Dean’s eyes. _(Nothing.)_

_(You were checking yourself out.)_

_(No, I wasn’t.)_ Castiel is hiding so much behind the walls in his mind that he hopes Dean can’t sense the falsehood in his words.

Dean raises one eyebrow, skepticism draws lines through the kin-connection and Castiel winces away from it. This is just another thing that he’s going to have to try not to think about. There are too many things that he keeps adding to that section of his mind and he’s quickly losing what few things he _can_ think about.

Castiel ignores the look and the emotions Dean sends in his direction and he tries not to let his hands stray to the folds of his adipose fins. _(Are you done with the phone?)_

 _(Nice change of topic. I’m putting it back together to text Sam and see if he’s made any kind of breakthrough. I think I figured it out and I want to check with him before I do it.)_ Dean looks down again and Castiel draws closer, watching him put together the case.

He waits while Dean sends messages with Sam before he touches curiosity gently at Dean’s thoughts. _(What time will Lilith be here for supper?)_

Dean shrugs, his attention more on his phone than the time. He sends an image into the kin-connection of both the stick-hands on the clock pointing straight down at the number that Castiel now recognizes as a ‘six’. Castiel looks up at the clock, counting the spaces between the numbers. They have almost two hours until then.

Castiel frowns. He’s never been so bored in his life. There was always something to do at the colony. Hunting, gathering, carving out sleep-shelves or deeper hollows for storage while mining the metals used by the smiths, maintaining weapons,  helping the smiths, training. Even while on guard duty, he would at least be able to talk with the others and play word games, sing or reminisce. He has none of that here.

It’s not that he doesn’t like talking to Dean. No, it’s the exact opposite. He loves having the kin-connection with Dean. And there is a certain satisfaction to having the link with him knowing that they’ve been instructed to not have it at all. But he can’t have the kin-connection with Dean the way he had it with his nest-siblings and the rest of his kin back in the colony. It’s close, but it’s still not the same.

Castiel returns to chasing the fish. It’s simple enough to catch them and he lets them go right away. He waits a few minutes before starting the chase again. He’s only been playing the game for a little while when excitement bursts sharp and bright through the kin-connection. Dean is standing now and he’s grinning down at the phone in his hand.

 _(Got it! She was pretty specific about what needed to be done through the computer, but she was vague as hell about what had to be done to the actual equipment.)_ Dean’s delight is nearly tangible and he starts pacing.

He swims in line with Dean, from one side of small-sea to the other and watches as he taps at his phone. _(Did you get the message from Meg?)_

 _(Sure did. Basically it was her calling me a dumbass for taking so long and explaining that our communications are completely confidential.)_ Dean stops and smiles bright and wide at him. _(Lilith can’t see our messages anymore.)_

Castiel tilts his head, confused. _(How?)_

 _(Waiting on her to –)_ He looks down again. _(Apparently her instructions were for connecting the phones to a different satellite. Lilith can only see the messages sent using her system and we’re using a different one now.)_

It takes a few moments for him to understand and Castiel’s tail twitches, brushing over the floor of small-sea. _(But won’t Lilith notice that you’re suddenly no longer contacting Sam? If we raise her suspicions, she might take actions against us.)_

 _(Good point. I’ll bring that up with the others.)_ Dean goes to the bed and flops down on his back.

Castiel follows as best as he can in small-sea and stretches out on his stomach. He crosses his arms and rests his chin on them, watching while Dean sends his messages. _(Has Meg said why she is being so helpful?)_

Dean shakes his head, not taking his eyes from the phone. He doesn’t speak for many long minutes, focused entirely on his messages. For a moment, Castiel briefly hates the phone and the people through it that are stealing Dean’s attention from him. He knows he can’t have all of Dean’s attention all the time, and he knows that whatever Meg is doing is important. She wouldn’t be so secretive about it if it wasn’t. But he’s bored and Dean is barely acknowledging him at the moment while he sends messages to the others.

He waits through several messages. Each one sends ripples of different emotions through the kin-connection. Surprise, curiosity, confusion, doubt. Castiel picks through each one, separating them and trying to understand why Dean feels them. But when he reaches through their link to sift through Dean’s thoughts, he finds everything regarding the messages are hidden from him.

 _(You’re not going to tell me what’s being said, are you?)_ Castiel frowns, if only to keep from pouting.

_(You know I have to.)_

His fans flare unhappily and he curls his tail up, arching it until the end touches along his spine between his back-fans. _(Because of Lilith?)_

 _(Because of Lilith. She insists on the kin-connection with you every damn time she sees you. And if you slip even just a little, she might find out about our plans.)_ Dean sits up suddenly, and looks at Castiel sharply. _(Shit, I shouldn’t even have told you about what Meg said about the phones.)_

Castiel bares his teeth in a hiss. _(I’m more skilled with the kin-connection than any of you. Lilith won’t be able to get into my thoughts and if she tries to shock an answer out of me, it will only sever the kin-connection. I can’t maintain it when the pain is that intense.)_

Dean’s face darkens and he looks away. His thoughts become a storm of upset and when Castiel touches them lightly, he’s not surprised to find that Dean is remembering the only time he saw Lilith using the pendant. Hate siphons hotly into the kin-connection as Dean’s memories track back over the moment Lilith pressed the pendant.

 _(You screamed.)_ Dean turns away and throws the phone onto the pillows. _(Not just out loud, but like this. It_ hurt _. I felt the pain down my back and through my head like how I can sometimes still feel what it was like to be stabbed. And then you snapped out of my head so fast – fuck, I don’t even know how to really describe it. It was like you were ripped away and I couldn’t stop it.)_

His hands are shaking and concern curls in Castiel’s chest. _(I hated it, Cas. It was like seeing Tony Miller beating up on Sammy when he was in fifth grade. Only it… It was worse. I wasn’t just angry, I was fucking terrified. And I damn near hit Lilith. I’ve never hit a woman on purpose and I wanted to_ hurt _her. So badly that it scared me.)_

While Dean continues, Castiel pushes up from the floor. He swims slowly backward while rising toward the surface. _(I was scared for you, and I scared myself and it’s – I don’t like feeling like that. And I hate seeing you hurt and I just – Don’t do anything that’ll make her do it again. Please.)_

 _(Dean.)_ Castiel’s back bumps the far wall and he rolls his tail once, breaking the surface.

He looks up, confusion flickering briefly before giving way to understanding. Castiel’s gills are sealed and the water is cleared from his lungs by the time Dean reaches the platform. His tail slaps the glass a few times, giving him the push he needs to lift out of the water. Once he’s over the wall, Castiel doesn’t wait for Dean to step down or even until he’s holding Castiel comfortably. He cradles Dean’s face in his hands and presses kiss after kiss to his lips.

The memories of Dean’s emotions still taint the kin-connection and Castiel hates them. He doesn’t want Dean to feel like that and he can’t decide if it’s him or Lilith to blame. But he refuses to be the one to let Dean feel like that again. As much as he hates doing it, Castiel will listen to Lilith. He’ll do what he must to make sure Dean never has to see it a second time.

Dean leans forward, pressing Castiel’s back against the glass and pinning his fans down. He can feel the edge of the mirror against the scales below the swell of his tail. His head knocks against the glass-wall and he narrowly misses biting Dean’s tongue. He twines his arms around Dean’s shoulders as he does his tail around his hips. Dean’s hands slip under his tail, holding him up.

 _(I won’t. I promise, it won’t happen again as long as I can help it.)_ He nips lightly at Dean’s bottom lip, licking over it to soothe the sting. His chest hurts and he’s not sure if it’s how hard his heart is pounding or because of everything he’s feeling.

Castiel wraps the kin-connection in the warmth that hasn’t stopped seething through his veins. The warmth is more than just the heat of arousal he feels when Dean touches him. It actually burns hotter through him, an incandescence brighter than any glow. It’s one of the best things Castiel has ever felt.

He loses track of how long they simply stand on the platform, pressed against small-sea. Time is meaningless when the heat of Dean’s skin can be felt through his clothing where Castiel’s tail curls around his waist and is wrapped around one leg, where their chests touch and his arms rest. Dean’s fingers are burning lines against his scales and everything about his touch is addicting. Castiel wants it for as long as he is allowed to have it.

The kisses get lost, one into the other. At some point they stop all together and they are simply resting their foreheads together. The turmoil in Dean’s mind is long gone by the time he carries Castiel to the bed. He folds Dean against his chest, pressing his nose into his hair. His fingers play over Dean’s back in gentle, comforting sweeps and he hums soft songs into what little air is between them.

Dean huffs quietly, a gust of warm air over Castiel’s collarbone. “Shit, I’m pathetic.”

He finds Dean’s side with his hand and drags a light, tickling touch over it. “No.”

 _(Yeah, I totally am. You’re the one who was tortured and everything, but you’re giving me comfort.)_ Dean shakes his head and he swats his hand away. _(It should be the other way around.)_ But his arms still resettle around Castiel’s back and he presses closer.

Castiel purrs at the sweep of fingers over his lower back. _(This is a comfort to me, Dean. The kin-connection, your heat, your touch, this –)_ He intensifies the warmth in the link to make his point. _(All of it comforts me more than words possibly could. You’re helping simply by being you.)_

Dean huffs again, but Castiel can feel a smile against his skin, a precursor to a series of small kisses that scatter the small area of his chest Dean can reach without actually moving. The only time Dean really does move is to get his phone when it continues to beep insistently somewhere behind Castiel’s head. Castiel frowns at the little device when Dean holds it between them to send more messages.

 _(I’m just telling them I’ll be M.I.A. from the conversation for awhile.)_ He puts the phone back on the pillows behind Castiel. _(We’ve got little more than a half hour before Lilith gets here.)_

He growls and twists his fingers in the back of Dean’s shirt. _(I don’t want to move.)_

_(We don’t have to. At least, not until she gets here. She’ll probably want me to put the damn chains back on you again.)_

_(I hate them. They’re cold and heavy.)_ Castiel tries to wiggle closer. He can almost feel the weight of them on his skin again and he hates it.

Dean tilts his head and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. _(You know why she does it, don’t you?)_

_(To dress me up.)_

_(That, and there’s the symbolic meaning too. Chains are a sign of captivity. She’s showing just how much ownership she has over you.)_ His thoughts sour and his fingers dig in. _(It’s a shit move that she probably knew you wouldn’t understand.)_

Castiel hisses, his fans flaring only for Dean to pull them back down. Dean presses calm into Castiel’s mind, buoyed on that addicting warmth neither of them gives name to. He knows what it is, and whether or not Dean knows what name to give it is Dean’s business. Dean knows the names for emotions that Castiel has never experienced before, so he must know the name for this one.

Dean doesn’t say anymore and neither does Castiel. He slides down until he can tuck his head under Dean’s chin. Castiel pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt, slipping them up against his back. Laughter gets muffled into his hair and Dean squirms against him. _(Dude, your hands are cold!)_

He hums and rubs his cheek against Dean’s shirt. Everything is Dean’s warmth and scent and it’s much too soon when Dean pulls away. Castiel resigns himself to another half hour of uncomfortable silence and forcing himself to eat when he doesn’t really feel like it. If he’s hungry, he’d rather catch his own meal than have it provided for him on a plate.

The chains are still heavy and cold when Dean puts them on him again, but Castiel doesn’t really notice them this time. Dean presses hot kisses across his stomach, from hip to hip, before he clips the chain together around his waist. He does the same to Castiel’s wrists, first placing one on top and another over the thin skin below his palm.

 _(You are being unusually tender.)_ He notes absently as Dean attaches the last of the chains.

 _(Guess there are still parts of me you don’t know yet, huh?)_ Dean looks up at him like he did the day Castiel first sang the bonding-song. His eyes are warm and crinkle at the edges and that secret smile plays over his lips again.

Castiel traces the point of his finger over the freckles dotting Dean’s cheekbones. _(Show me everything. I want to know all the parts of you.)_ He draws Dean up until he can press soft, needy kisses to his mouth. _(I want to remember you as you truly are. I want to remember all of you.)_

Dean slides into his lap, knees pinching Castiel’s adipose fins to the bed. His hands settle heavy and warm over Castiel’s sides. He doesn’t answer with words. There is only warmth and understanding and the faintest curls of regret. Very little else flows between them and the gentle kisses. Dean doesn’t take it any further and neither does Castiel. There’s no need to.

The kin-connection cuts off the moment Dean goes still against him. It happens so suddenly that it leaves Castiel dazed and floundering and he immediately reaches for Dean again, groping at his mind to get that warmth back. He needs to feel it as much as he needs his touch. Dean shakes him off and sits back, ignoring Castiel’s displeased whine.

“Guess I forgot to lock the door when I came back from the washroom.” The lines of Dean’s body are tense and he turns away from Castiel to look at the door. “The least you could do is knock.”

Castiel turns too and his fans flare in surprise. He hadn’t heard the door open and he certainly didn’t hear Lilith come in. As a warrior he should pay better attention to his surroundings and he’s ashamed to have let so much of his guard drop. It’s a reminder of just how dangerous Dean really is. He’s distracting and addicting and Castiel is very nearly completely lost to him.

Lilith has her hands on her hips and her expression is no happier than Castiel’s. “If you don’t want to be walked in on, you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

“You gave us permission to do what we want, didn’t you?” Dean stands up and Castiel lets him go reluctantly. “Since we can’t talk the normal way, you’ve really only left us with talking with our bodies.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to hear about it. Do what you want as long as I don’t have to see it.” Lilith gestures toward the table. “Pull that out. And we’ll need the extra chair. Alistair will be eating with us tonight.”

Castiel’s fans flare and his adipose fins ripple at Alistair’s name. He recognized enough of those words to know the meaning and it makes his stomach sour. Having Alistair around while he eats is just as bad as having Lilith present. The only way it would be worse is if he didn’t have Dean with him.

The guards bring in the extra chair and the ottoman again the moment Dean has the table pulled out. This time there are two silver shells that the guards place on the ledge and Castiel wonders if they’ll have as many ‘courses’ tonight as they did yesterday. Lilith still hasn’t asked for the kin-connection by the time they’re all seated at the table, Alistair included.

Alistair sits across from Castiel. There are four bowls of soup under the first silver-shell and Lilith has Dean serve the soup before he sits down opposite from her. For Castiel it is the same chicken soup that he ate yesterday. The others have a red soup with many little bits of things in it. Castiel tightens his tail around Dean’s ankle slightly and gestures for his attention. When he looks up, Castiel points at their bowls.

“Minestrone.” Dean explains, pushing his bowl close enough for Castiel to dip his spoon into it. He stops Castiel’s hand and points at all the little things on his spoon. “Pasta. Vegetables.”

Pasta, like the spaghetti. But these look different. They look like little shells. And Castiel knows what vegetables are too. He eyes the little square pieces of orange. “Carrots?”

“Yup.” Dean pulls his bowl back before Castiel can return the spoonful to it, leaving him with no other option but to eat it. “But they’re different. Better. Try it.”

Castiel ignores how Lilith and Alistair are watching him as he puts the spoon in his mouth. The flavor of the minestrone is very different from the chicken soup. It’s surprising and Castiel doesn’t know the right words to describe the flavor and how it stings his tongue. He doesn’t even taste the carrots or all the other different things. They all fall apart the same way under his teeth. It takes several mouthfuls of his chicken soup to make the taste go away and Dean snickers the whole time.

Lilith puts her spoon down slowly. “How did he know what you were talking about?”

“Short, familiar words.” Dean shrugs, not looking up from his bowl. “Cas isn’t stupid and he’s got a damn good memory. He’ll remember pretty much anything you tell him.”

When they’re done the soups, Dean takes all the bowls and spoons and puts them back under the silver shell on the ledge. Lilith says something to Dean, more words Castiel doesn’t understand, and instead of getting what is under the second shell, Dean sits back down in his chair. There’s silence for a few moments before Dean leans his elbows on the table and he seems almost bored as he looks between Lilith and Alistair.

“So are you two a thing or something?”

Alistair looks surprised for a moment before he starts laughing. It’s loud and annoying and it makes Castiel wince. Even Lilith laughs, covering her mouth as she giggles. Dean doesn’t even look surprised and Castiel is just confused. He has no idea what they’re talking about.

“Alistair is merely a business partner. He helps me with all my pets.” Lilith giggles through her words and it’s another few moments before she and Alistair stop completely. Once done, she taps the table in front of Castiel. “Kin-connection.”

He places the walls between them and touches her mind without hesitation. The quicker he does what she asks, the less likely she is to use the pendant and it’s not just the pain that Castiel is scared of anymore.

_(I want you to sing something nice before we eat our dinner.)_

Castiel curls his tail tightly around Dean’s leg again, the very end of it dipping into the opening of his boot. The nicest songs he knows are the ones sung for the bonding ceremony and he doesn’t want to sing any of those right now and especially not in front of Lilith. It will only hurt to sing them to Dean knowing he can never actually have him as a bond-mate.

But he promised to Dean that he would sing his favourite songs. The nicest of his favourites is the lullaby his parents used to sing when he was a hatching. It’s not the same one that he once sang softly to Dean what feels like seasons ago. Castiel glances at Dean once before he starts singing. It’s a nonsense, calming song with no real meaning behind it, but Dean’s eyes still soften and Castiel can feel the press of his other leg against the side of his tail.

When his song ends, Lilith gestures for Dean to serve the rest of the food. Castiel has another plate of fish decorated with little shredded pieces of dried kelp. When he looks at Dean’s plate of food, Dean points at each item and names it as chicken, mashed potatoes, and more vegetables. He pushes his plate closer and Castiel tries a little of each. They all taste good and his fish is almost bland in comparison.

The dinner is over quickly and only Alistair and Lilith really talk. Lilith doesn’t translate it and Dean doesn’t seem to have any reaction to their words so it can’t mean too much. As Dean cleans up their plates and gives the two silver-shells to the guards outside, Lilith has him sing another song. It’s not exactly one of his favourites, but he sings a song of searching – the same one he sang so long ago when Balthazar had gone to the light-beds alone.

Castiel is relieved when Dean finally moves him to the bed so that the ottoman and Lilith’s chair to be taken away. He sits on the curl of his tail and watches Dean push the table back into place near the end of Sam and Jess’s bed. Alistair leaves before Dean is done cleaning up. Lilith leans against the corner of small-sea, watching Dean too.

 _(Alistair will be back with me for lunch tomorrow.)_ She says it almost absently and Castiel nearly misses it. _(He wants to do some reflex tests or something. I don’t know or care. He’ll do them after we eat.)_

His fans flare sharply and that gets Dean’s attention. He looks toward them, his brow furrowed. Castiel forces his fans to lay flat again before he addresses Lilith. _(Do the tests involve knives or needles?)_

She shrugs. _(Not that I’m aware of. He knows he’s not allowed to damage you unless I give him permission to do so as punishment. But you and Dean have been behaving so well these last few days that I don’t think that will be necessary. And if you’re good all day tomorrow too, you can go with Dean to the showers the next day.)_ She looks at Castiel pointedly and her smile is both gentle and cold. _(You know what it means to behave, don’t you?)_

Castiel fights the urge to hiss at her and he nods. _(No kin-connection with Dean and listen to your rules.)_

Her smile grows and she walks over to pat Castiel on the head. “Good boy! Now do you remember what to do when I’m leaving?”

The food in his stomach turns and Castiel suppresses a shudder. He clenches his hands into fists on his lap before curling his tail in tighter and rising higher. Lilith leans down the rest of the way, her hand on the pendant – and for good reason. If she didn’t have that, Castiel would sink his teeth into the closest part of her and _tear her apart_.

Her lips are tacky against his and he pulls away quickly, dropping to the bed to rest on his elbows. Lilith pats him on the head again and she tilts his chin up to touch the collar. “You’ve learned so well. I’m very proud of you, Castiel. And I’ve had Eve design you another collar. I’ll give you that at lunch tomorrow. You may break the kin-connection now.”

He dips his head and severs the link. Dean stops Lilith at the door again and says several words, the most repeated one being ‘spray-bottle’. Lilith says something about the guards before she leaves and Dean locks the door behind her. For several moments, he listens with his ear to the door before he turns to Castiel and nods.

Castiel sits up again and reaches for Dean with body and mind. The rush of warmth through the kin-connection soothes the edges of his nerves left frayed by having both Alistair and Lilith here. Dean crosses quickly to the bed and Castiel grips the sleeve of his outer-shirt when Dean cups his face.  He rubs his thumbs over Castiel’s lips and they come away red.

 _(Fucking left her stupid lipstick on you.)_ Dean’s rubs at Castiel’s lips again before he leans in. Though the warmth is still in the kin-connection, there’s something darker burning along the edges. He drags Castiel up by his arm and his fingers dig in with the rough press of the kiss. _(And she’s got a new fucking collar.)_

He makes a noise of surprise when Dean  pulls away sharply and turns him with a hard pull at one of his shoulders. _(Turn around and spread your fins.)_

 _(Dean?)_ He presses confusion into the dark around Dean’s mind.

“You wanted to know all of me, Cas. This is all of me.” Dean pulls Castiel’s hips up with an arm around his waist and pushes his shoulders down with a hand between his shoulder blades. He ends up with his cheek pressed against the sheets and Castiel twists his fingers in the bedding. His chest feels tight and tingles are running along his ribs. “I told you that I’m just as bad as Lilith. I fucking _hate_ you letting her touch you, having to watch you fucking _kiss her – a_ nd I’m not allowed to do a damn thing about it.”

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple violently at the possession searing through the kin-connection. Dean drags his teeth along his spine and Castiel squirms, biting his bottom lip to keep from making noise. Heat is pooling through him and his tail won’t hold still, the end whipping across the bedding. He spreads his back-fans wide like Dean asked, like his fingers demand with quick tugs.

Dean presses his mouth to the space in the small of his back between Castiel’s back-fans. His tongue traces the seam of webbing and skin along the inside edge of one before he noses as close as he can get. The first sharp _suck_ makes Castiel cry out – in surprise, in pleasure, he’s not really sure which one but by the time Dean is done with that one spot, Castiel can barely breathe.

He gasps and whines and makes a number of noises he would be embarrassed about if he wasn’t distracting by the other bruise Dean is sucking into the adjacent spot next to his other back-fan. Castiel nearly collapses onto his stomach when Dean moves his arm and he struggles to stay in the same position as long as Dean’s lips and tongue are still on his back.

“I don’t want to own you like she does. But you’re mine, Cas. More than you’ll ever be hers. You are _mine_.” Dean growls against his back, fumbling blindly to undo the chain around Castiel’s waist.

His fingers keep brushing against Castiel’s sheath and he twitches with every touch. He pulls Castiel’s wrists back one at a time to remove the chains around them. Once the chain is removed, Dean spends several moments licking and sucking his fingers and the webbing between them and Castiel whines with every touch of his tongue.

Guided by Dean’s hands, Castiel folds his back-fans down again. He lets himself be pulled back against Dean’s chest and Dean’s fingers spread hot and wide across his collarbone, pressing hard over the collar.

 _(I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, the only one who gets to see you – hear you – like this.)_ Dean mouths at the space behind his side-fan and his fingers find all the places on Castiel’s chest and sides that make his spine curve and press into his hands. _(This is the side of me I’ve hidden from you since day one, Cas. Do you know how much I hate that you’re going to leave and you might find someone back home who’ll make you forget all about me?)_

Castiel hisses at a particularly hard pinch to both his nipples. There’s no one who could make him forget this. Nothing could make him forget the warmth and the heat and _want_ , or the feelings that burn through the kin-connection to flow like magma through his veins.

Dean is pressed tight against his back and he’s kneeling over the stretch of Castiel’s tail that isn’t folded under him. His hands leave for only a moment, but it’s nearly long enough for Castiel to fall forward, unsupported. The weight around his neck leaves suddenly and there’s a crash to his right. When Dean’s hands return, they press up over his clavicle again and his mouth moves in a smooth line down the back of Castiel’s neck. It takes him longer than it should to realize that Dean removed the collar and the weight of the gesture steals what little breath he has left.

He can feel the solid line of Dean’s arousal rubbing over his scales through his pants against the swell of his tail below the small of his back. Dean’s hips rolls against him in quick, smooth thrusts and Castiel isn’t even sure how long he’s been doing that.

 _(I want to keep you, Cas, but I don’t want to own you – not like she does. Nothing like that. I know right from wrong and I can control myself. But this –)_ Dean presses hard against his sheath, his palm moving in long swipes from base to head where he drags his fingers along the widening slit before repeating the motion again. _(– This isn’t something anyone else gets to have, not while you’re here, not while you’re with me.)_

 _(Dean –)_ Castiel scrabbles at his legs.

Dean moves his hands to cover Castiel’s, holding them over his knees. Castiel can feel the press of his forehead against the back of his neck. “I’m selfish and I don’t like sharing. I’ve had to share everything with Sam my whole life, but he has Jess now and I – I told you. You’re _different_. You’re in my head and it’s fucking with everything I know and – Christ, just tell me how bad I’ve fucked things up showing you want I’m really like.”

A quick twist of his tail and flare of his fans pushes Dean away and Castiel can feel the surprise, the disappointment and the self-hatred before the walls go up around Dean’s mind. He reaches back and grabs Dean’s arm, dragging him down until Castiel has him pinned beneath him. Confusion pushes around the walls between them and Castiel ignores it. He starts pulling at Dean’s shirts, getting them off as quickly as he can.

_(Cas, what are you –)_

Castiel ignores everything until he has Dean’s shirts on the floor. He picks at the clear hard edges of the bandage on Dean’s shoulder until he can peel it off and throw it away too. His bite mark is scabbed over and swollen around the edges and it sends a rush of pride and possession through his chest that he willingly shares with the kin-connection. He meets Deans eyes and closes his fingers over the mark, squeezing until Dean winces.

 _(Mine.)_ Castiel leans down until his lips brush Dean’s with every breath. _(You and I are not so different, Dean. I want more than just my memories of you to show everyone – at home or at Lilith’s – that I was once yours.)_ He forces as much of the warmth that fills him against the walls around Dean’s mind. _(Lilith has no claim on me.)_

Dean’s fingers sink into his hair and he surges up into a kiss that is little more than teeth and tongue. The walls drop the moment Castiel drags his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip. His gut aches with the heat of his erection still sheathed under his scales. Castiel presses their hips together, rolling his body like he would in the waves. He groans as Dean’s legs spread beneath him and he slides into the valley of his thighs.

It’s not long before Castiel’s erection is unsheathed and he hisses at the first rub of it against Dean’s jeans. They struggle to remove them without stopping the kisses, but Castiel still has to pull away with a growl so Dean can get the pants down his hips and off his legs.

 _(Is this normal?)_ Castiel takes the brief moment of clarity before he has Dean under his hands again to ask one of the few questions he has. He loathes the moment he has to lean away to get the condoms while Dean deals with his pants. _(To be aroused so many times in one day?)_

 _(This better be the last stupid question you ask during this.)_ Dean takes the condoms and tears open the packages. _(We might not do as much tomorrow, but this is completely normal. Hell, I’d be insulted if you didn’t get turned on every time I touched you to purposefully get you worked up.)_

Castiel whines when Dean sits up and rolls the condom over his penis, his fingers dragging over him in long strokes. _(Am I allowed another question?)_

_(You’re allowed as many as you want.)_

_(But you said –)_

_(Question, Cas.)_

He takes a deep breath to steady himself as Dean folds over to press kisses to his chest. _(What are we going to do?)_

Dean laughs against his skin and heat pours into the kin-connection, nearly sending Castiel spiraling into the abyss Dean’s touch creates in his mind. _(_ You _are going to get the lube._ I _am going to blow you while_ you _prep me. And when you’re done and I’m ready,_ you _are going to fuck me into the bed.)_

Castiel’s fans snap wide at the images Dean feeds into the kin-connection. His mouth goes dry and his adipose fins ripple so violently it almost hurts. He goes still as suddenly as the reactions had occurred and Dean looks up at him, concern brushing along the edges of their link.

_(Only if you’re ready, Cas. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.)_

He’s trying to wrap his mind around the meaning of Dean’s images. Castiel could – he could be inside Dean. He could feel the heat inside him and have Dean like Balthazar and Gabriel always told him about the females they were with. His breath comes in short gasps and his lungs, his insides, his skin, everything burns with the heat and the warmth and the _want_.  He wants this – wants Dean like this.

Castiel fumbles blindly behind him for the top drawer. He knows he left it open when he got the condoms and it’s just a matter of finding the bottle of slippery jelly without looking. Dean grins at him, bright and pleased. It sends bolts of steady-blue’s lightening down his spine and Castiel has no idea how he manages to find the bottle but the moment he has it in his hand, Dean is pushing him to lay flat.

Dean straddles Castiel’s waist, but he’s facing the wrong way. His back is open to Castiel’s hands and as nice as that is, being able to see all the muscles he’s memorized with touch play under his skin, Castiel wants _more._ Dean quietly guides him with images and gentle instructions on what to do. Castiel remembers what to do with his fingers, but the angle is different and Dean is very distracting with his lips and tongue and the way he moves his mouth over Castiel’s penis.

At least he can give Dean pleasure with the different-spot inside him and the place behind his balls that Castiel can press and rub at. Dean keeps rocking over him, his erection lightly pressing against Castiel’s chest and every little groan Dean makes vibrates through his throat and along Castiel’s penis. The end of Castiel’s tail won’t stop twitching, drawing sharp arcs across the bedding almost in time to the up-down of Dean’s head.

By the time Castiel has four fingers in Dean, he’s short of breath and lava is searing under his scales. If they don’t proceed soon, he might orgasm before then – especially if Dean insists on rubbing a thumb against the opening of his sheath while his tongue traces over Castiel’s glow pattern. Dean answers the urgency Castiel pushes into the kin-connection by pressing his tongue to the sensitive opening under the curve of his penis.

His laughter is nothing more than hot gusts of air over the exposed muscles where Castiel’s penis connects to his sheath. Castiel twitches and withdraws his fingers as gently as he can so as not to him. _(Dean, please – I can’t –)_

 _(Yeah, yeah – I think I’m ready. You’re just – fuck, Cas, you’re pretty thick at the base and more prep was needed – just in case you –)_ Dean sits back slowly, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. _(You want me in any specific way?)_

Castiel swallows thickly. He runs his hands over Dean’s back, to his waist – absently nothing that it’s thicker than his own – and over his hips. _(Whichever is easiest for you.)_

Dean leans forward again, grabbing a few of the pillows. He turns around to straddle Castiel’s lab properly and tucks the pillows under Castiel’s head and shoulders. For a moment he looks down at Castiel’s lap before grinning up at him agin. He holds their penises together like he did this morning and Castiel bites his lip as Dean rocks his hips, pushing the line of heat along his erection.

His head tilts back into the pillows, baring his throat for a barrage of Dean’s kisses. Dean continues thrusting against Castiel and his tongue draws wet designs along his collarbone. _(We’re going to have to go slow, okay? Let me get comfortable and then you can start moving.)_

Castiel whines low in his throat and his fingers dig into Dean’s shoulders. Dean slides forward slowly until he’s sitting in front of Castiel’s penis. He presses quick kisses up Castiel’s throat and under his jaw. When he reaches his lips, Dean licks in slow and smooth. The scent of Dean and his arousal is thick in the air, his taste heavy on Castiel’s tongue and his heat pressed against him. The kin-connection is alive with warmth and desire and everything that Castiel has only ever had from Dean.

A storm is raging under his scales and all it takes for it to break is a tight press against the head of his penis. Castiel cries out in surprise, his back bowing from the bed in one sharp movement. The buzzing fades slowly and Castiel stares blindly at the ceiling while he pants – gasping for a breath he can never seem to catch.

Mortification sets in the moment he can think properly, twisting sharp and painful in his stomach. Castiel sits up quickly, narrowly missing smacking his forehead into Dean’s.

 _(Whoa, cowboy, calm down.)_ Dean grins and pushes back him back down. _(You alright there, Cas?)_

He looks down and glares at his lap. Dean has already removed the condom and Castiel watches as he penis slides back into the sheath slowly. His cheeks feel hot and embarrassment burns where arousal did only a few minutes ago. _(I – I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to – It just –)_

 _(Hey, Cas, hey.)_ Dean leans in to kiss him softly. _(It’s okay. It happens. I’m probably to blame anyway. I didn’t really hold back while blowing you, so, my bad.)_

Castiel buries his face in the curve of Dean’s neck, only a few finger-widths from his bite mark. He squeezes his arms around his chest and folds his tail up over Dean’s back. What can he do for Dean now? He could use his mouth again, but it had taken so long before and it had made his jaw hurt. He could always use his hands, or let Dean thrust against him like before, like he is now – rocking his erection against Castiel’s stomach.

The end of his tail brushes his knuckles and another idea occurs to him. Castiel smiles against the side of Dean’s throat and pulls him down as he lays back again. He purrs and licks wetly over Dean’s skin, finding by memory the marks he’s left. Dean starts making little breathy noises against Castiel’s side-fan.

 _(Please let me make up for it.)_ Castiel draws lines up and down Dean’s spine with the end of his tail as he uses his hands to guide Dean’s hips up.

Dean only has a few moments to pulse confusion into the kin-connection before a strangled noise sounds in the back of his throat. Castiel almost grins against the mark in the hard center of his throat. He repeats the drag of the end of his tail over the puckered opening he’d spent too long preparing to leave unattended now. Dean makes the noise again and his thighs tremble under Castiel’s hands as he presses in – slowly, steadily.

As soon as he realizes what Castiel is doing, Dean starts guiding him with the instructions again. He waits for Dean’s okay to press forward, and stops when he tells him to. Soon Dean is rocking his hips back against the end of Castiel’s tail. Castiel works a hand between them and Dean sends waves of appreciation into the kin-connection as he thrusts into the tunnel of his fingers. Castiel kisses Dean through it all, curling the end of his tail when and where Dean tells him to. Dean makes so many interesting noises and Castiel wishes he was aroused now if only to be feeling this too.

Dean takes longer to orgasm than he did this morning and he sags against Castiel the moment he’s done. Castiel removes his tail as gently as he did his fingers and he curls it around Dean’s leg as he stretches them out across the bed. Dean is far heavier than he expected him to be. The thought makes Dean grunt and he flicks at Castiel through the kin-connection before sliding to one side.

Pride fills Castiel’s chest, easing his embarrassment. Despite not being able to give Dean what he wanted, there is no disappointment in Dean’s mind. There is nothing but the warmth and pleased satisfaction. He revels in the feeling as he sits up. He’s not sure how to remove the condom from Dean and he fumbles with it a few times before Dean laughs and pushes his hands away. Castiel watches closely to see how Dean does it so he can do it next time. Because there _will_ be a next time and he will have better control of himself then.

 _(You’re full of surprises, Cas. I’ll give you that.)_ Dean grins and drapes one of his arms over his eyes. _(Gimme a few minutes to bask in the afterglow and then I’ll clean up. You wanna go back in the tank or y’want I should just dump water on you again?)_

Castiel rests his chin on Dean’s chest. _(You said we could play cards after dinner. What are cards?)_

Dean laughs and gestures above his head. _(Top drawer.)_

He leaves the heat of Dean’s side only for the time it takes him to locate the thin box from the images Dean provides in the kin-connection. _(Is it normal to use a bed upside down?)_

 _(Is it normal to ask so many questions after sex?)_ Dean laughs again and takes the box Castiel gives him. They both settle on their stomachs, facing the drawers. _(Why aren’t you as wiped as I am? Pretty sure you came just as hard as I did.)_

_(Embarrassment, maybe? It snapped me back to reality fairly quickly. I’ll do better next time.)_

Dean jostles their shoulders together. _(We’ll keep practicing at it until you get it right, don’t you worry about that. Now look at these, we’ve got fifty-two cards in a deck. A deck consists of four sui–)_

_(Weren’t you going to clean up?)_

His head droops between his shoulders, his forehead almost touching the bed. _(I’ll clean up once I’m done explaining this and the game we’re going to play. While I’m cleaning and soaking you up, you’re going to be memorizing the rules for the game, okay?)_

_(Does the game have a name?)_

_(It’s sure as hell not ‘Twenty Questions’.)_ Dean chuckles and Castiel tilts his head, not understanding the joke. _(It’s called ‘Go Fish’, Cas. We’re going to play ‘Go Fish’.)_


	26. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _(You make me forget.)_ Castiel rolls his hips, rubbing his sheath and the hardening erection within against Dean. _(You make me forget how much I miss my home and my family. You make me forget my worries and Lilith. You make me forget_ everything _.)_ His chest is burning with the warmth. _(Everything.) ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people:.gahyouresoawesome, [askthemerangels](http://askthemerangels.tumblr.com), gay0angel0man, teamfreewill-assemble, sweetnessnarose, and apocalypstiel.
> 
>  
> 
> _If I've forgotten anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it ASAP!_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)!**

Castiel wakes to the grating noise coming from Dean’s phone. Dean grumbles unhappily and his arm presses against Castiel’s cheek as he reaches over him to find it lost somewhere in the pillows and blankets. It turns off and Dean yawns loudly, worming his arms around Castiel’s waist and pressing tight along his back.

_(You awake, Cas?)_

_(I have little choice. Your alarm is very annoying.)_

Dean’s laughter shakes against the back of his neck, followed by a few lazy kisses against the knobs of his spine. _(How’s your tail and your fans?)_

Castiel stifles a yawn and draws his tail up, pinning Dean’s arms to his stomach for a moment before he stretches it down again. The end curls against the drawers and the blankets pin his adipose fins down, keeping him from checking how stiff they are. He flares the side-fan he’s not laying on and the spines flex fine, but the webbing feels a little tight.

_(They’re not too bad.)_

_(Which means they need a spray down.)_ Dean stretches against his back, fingers spreading over his belly for a moment before he sits up.

The blankets fall away and Dean’s heat leaves the bed. Castiel shivers and rolls over, watching Dean as he fills the two spray bottles the guards had brought last night. He smiles absently, remembering how Dean had laughed when he’d first sprayed Castiel in the face and how the mist had surprised him. Castiel had taken up the second bottle and sprayed him back, but his bottle had shot a stream of water at Dean instead of a mist. Dean had to twist the end of the bottle where the water comes out so that his would mist too.

Castiel slides to the floor and stretches his tail out before him. He takes one of the bottles Dean gives him and turns his back so Dean can spray the mist over his back-fans and his side-fans while he takes care of the front of his tail. When his front is done, he pulls himself back up onto the bed halfway until he can press his stomach to the blankets. Dean mists over the back of his tail before lifting the rest of his tail to help him up fully onto the bed.

Dean puts the spray bottles on top of the drawers and gets his bathroom kit. He gives it directly to Castiel. _(Get out your toothbrush and the toothpaste.)_

Castiel fumbles with the zipper, his fingers slipping off the little tab, and glares at the two toothbrushes once he has it open. His is green and Dean’s is blue. Dean brings over the garbage can and places it next to him on the bed. As soon as Castiel puts the toothpaste on the bristles of the toothbrush, Dean takes the little kit from him.

 _(I’ll be right back, okay?)_ He kisses Castiel’s forehead, fingers pushing through his hair once. _(I’m just gonna hit the bathroom and shave. Bobby will be here in half an hour with breakfast and you can shave before lunch.)_

Castiel hums in agreement and starts brushing his teeth. He severs the kin-connection between them while Dean gets dressed and watches him leave. He’s long done by the time Dean comes back. The welcoming flood of warmth rushes into him the moment he makes the kin-connection again and Dean grins at him.

 _(Want to play cards again?)_ Dean taps the box on top of the drawers.

He frowns, his fans rustling unhappily. _(Anything but ‘Go Fish’.)_

 _(You only lost… what, seven games? Nothing to be sore about.)_ His thoughts turn teasing and they drag against Castiel’s. _(Sam would probably be pissed if I taught you poker and I’d get lectured for corrupting you. So, how about ‘War’?)_

Castiel tilts his head, his scowl deepening. _(War isn’t a game, Dean.)_

His smile falls a little and he rubs a hand through his hair. _(I know, Cas. My dad fought in a war. It’s where he met Bobby. It’s just…  I don’t even know why the call that game that, but it’s all I’ve ever really known it as.)_

There’s several moments of silence between them and Dean shifts uncomfortably, frowning down at the little box of cards. Castiel slides closer to the end of the bed and reaches out, touching the back of Dean’s hand lightly. _(Show me the game.)_

Dean grins again and directs Castiel to sit so that there is a decent amount of flat blanket between them. He gives Castiel half the deck and they start by flipping the top card one at a time. If Castiel’s card is a higher value than Dean’s, he gets to keep both cards. If his is lower, Dean takes them. If the cards have the same value, then they both have to lay down three more cards before flipping the fourth card. The highest value card wins everything on the bed.

 _(And what is the point of this game?)_ Castiel asks as he collects his winning from one of the big ‘battles’.

_(To get the whole deck. It can go on for a really long time, but it helps pass the time.)_

_(Considering you have three of the aces, yes this will go for quite some time.)_ Castiel clumsily shuffles the new cards into his deck. _(The only way I’ll win those from you is if they end up as one of the three face down cards during a battle.)_

Dean’s smile turns sly as he flips the next card. _(Well you’ve got more than half of the face cards.)_

 _(You should have dealt better.)_ Castiel sticks out his tongue and flips his card too, frowning as Dean takes his six with his ten.

Bobby arrives on time and he brings both their breakfasts and another container of food for himself. There are more live fish for Castiel and Bobby dumps the bucket into small-sea. Dean kisses Castiel quickly while they’re on the platform before he pushes him over the glass-wall. Castiel does a few stretches before doing anything else, bending and curling until he’s worked the kinks out of his muscles and he’s ready to chase his meal.

Dean and Bobby talk over their food and occasionally Dean stops to send messages to Sam or Meg. He doesn’t translate either conversation, but the kin-connection is far from silent between them. The warmth continues to roll in pleasant waves, back and forth with the random thoughts Dean shares. Some are answers to Castiel’s mild curiosity about the different foods Dean is eating. Others are simply bursts of appreciation or admiration for Castiel’s swimming.

 _(Are you allowed to swim with me?)_ Castiel asks once he’s settled, leaning his right shoulder against the front-wall with a few of the fish he caught.

Confusion tickles along the edges of his mind and Castiel answers with images of Dean in small-sea with him. _(Oh. Yeah, I guess I could. Without the bars it’ll be easier for me now. How about after breakfast? We’ll have a few hours before Lilith gets here.)_

_(What time will lunch be?)_

_(Closer to one, I think. I’ll ask the guards when Bobby leaves.)_ Dean pushes an image of the clock into the kin-connection with where the thin stick-hands will be when Lilith might arrive.

Castiel hums in approval and eats, absently watching the lazy loops the other fish swim in. He wonders what he and Dean could do while in small-sea. They could race, but Castiel would undoubtedly win every time. And Dean will have to keep going to the surface to breathe. He can’t hold his breath as long as Castiel wishes he could.

It’s why Castiel spends as much time outside of small-sea as he does. As much as he loves the water and how right it feels to be in it, he doesn’t stay out of small-sea just because he likes spending time with Dean. It’s for Dean’s convenience too. Only one of them can breathe the water, but both of them can breathe the air, so it just makes sense to stay where neither of them are actually uncomfortable. And it’s not that annoying to have to remember to wet his scales every few hours.

He knows Dean is bothered by the idea that he’s keeping Castiel from his natural habitat. But Castiel doesn’t mind. He would rather that Dean be comfortable then having to constantly worry about breathing. It would be harder to wrap around Dean if he has to keep them floating at the surface. Castiel would rather sink into Dean’s heat on the bed they share than anywhere else.

But it would be nice to swim with him. Even if just for a little while. Castiel would love to show Dean the light-beds, and the kelp-forests. And he’d very much like to show Dean the deeps, the colony’s trench, and his sleep-shelf. If it was even slightly possible, he’d take Dean to the rock forest that spreads out from the edges of the trench and find a private place where he could press against Dean, moving against him, in him, _having_ him in all the ways he finds it hard not to think about.

It’s never been like this for him before. Castiel has never been so focused on someone’s body, nor the pleasures of his own. It never mattered before Dean. And now it’s almost all he can think about. He thinks more about Dean and the different ways they could touch, or the heat of his skin and the feel of him pressed tight to his side, soft sleep breaths brushing against Castiel’s cheek – he thinks more about that than he does his home.

And that’s terrifying.

How long has it been since he stopped thinking about his family? Of course he still misses them, he always does. But he can’t remember the last time he stopped to wonder what they’re doing, or how the war is going. He’s been so concerned with everything happening here, and with memorizing as much of Dean as he can, that he hasn’t had the time to worry about what is going on with the colony.

Castiel’s fish remains half eaten in his hand. A few of its kin have gathered around his lap, picking carelessly at the remains he hasn’t finished yet. He suddenly doesn’t have much of an appetite. His family and his colony have always meant everything to him and he’s let a _two-tails_ distract him from them.

But Dean isn’t just any two-tails. He’s… He’s _Dean._ Dean is different. Dean is special. And Castiel – mother-sea, help him – Castiel loves him. And if he could ever be selfish enough to ask, he would beg Dean to build a new home as close to Castiel’s colony as he can. But that would mean Dean would have to move to the other side of the world. He would have to leave all that he knows and his own family and Castiel can’t ask that – not when Dean won’t ask the same of him.

He lets the remnants of his meal float to the floor, leaving it for the fish to tend to. Of the others he caught, it’s the only one left. Castiel leans his temple against the glass and watches the fish pick at the remains. It does nothing to clear his head and a heavy weight settles in his chest and stomach, squeezing at his lungs.

The splash and sharp movement of something large in the water startles him out of the depressing haze settled in his head. Concern and that ever present warmth slides into the kin-connection, blanketing all his thoughts. Castiel looks up sharply and his fans flare in surprise. One of Bobby’s tiered-platforms is set up on the platform and that’s not very surprising, he saw that set up yesterday when they were removing the bars.

What _is_ surprising, is Dean – and it wipes clean his thoughts of everything he had been worrying about.

Dean is wearing short pants that are longer and different from the ones he wears under his jeans. He is diving down toward Castiel with a white cylinder on his back. There are several little hoses connected to the cylinder and are attached to the straps around his shoulders that hold the cylinder in place. One of the tubes connects to a circle resting over Dean’s mouth and bubbles release regularly from one edge of the circle. A black square frames his eyes and nose, and it looks like there is glass covering them. And Dean is wearing long black fins on his feet.

Dean’s eyes crinkle behind the glass and he waves lightly. _(Hey, how’s it going?)_

Castiel looks around quickly, confusion curling in his chest. Bobby is gone and the lock on the door is in place. But how long ago did he leave and where did Dean get the cylinder with the many tubes and the glass-frame? And where did the tiered-platform come from? How long has he been lost in thought?

The concern trips lightly across his thoughts again and Dean swims closer, reaching out to him. _(What’s going on, Cas? You’ve been staring at nothing long enough for us to finish eating and for Bobby to bring me all this gear.)_

He blinks at Dean, still stunned to see him in small-sea. It takes a moment for that to actually sink in. Dean is in small-sea. He’s in the water and he’s swimming. Here, with him. Delight sets in, pulsing bright through his chest. Castiel pushes away from the wall sharply and swims circles around Dean, his elation making the kin-connection flare happily between them.

Dean pulls up sharply and kicks lazily to keep himself in place as Castiel continues to swim around him. He keeps trying to twist to keep him in sight, but Castiel is too fast. He draws loop after loop around Dean, pleased noises spilling from his lips.

 _(Seriously, this is all it takes for you to be happy?)_ Dean’s amusement nearly gets lost in the surge of his own joy and Castiel is almost surprised by how pleased Dean is with Castiel’s happiness.

 _(You’re swimming with me! It’s –)_ Castiel stops suddenly in front of Dean, his tail curled loosely around his legs. He has no word for how wonderful it is to have Dean in the water with him, actually swimming and not just clinging to the edge of small-sea. His purr rumbles low in his throat and he touches the circle over Dean’s mouth. _(Does this help you to breathe?)_

Dean nods and gestures over his shoulder, the blue-sleeve tight over his arm. _(Air tank. Since there’s not a ton of water pressure going on in here, I’ll get a couple hours outta this thing. I’ll be a prune by the time we get out, but we can stay in here til Lilith shows up - if you want.)_

Castiel  touches all the tubes, careful not to pull at them. _(But this will hinder you, won’t it? You won’t be able to swim as fast, or be as mobile.)_

 _(True, but you could drag me around? I’ll be your very own water balloon.)_ Dean’s eyes crinkle again and Castiel realizes that’s how he smiles while the circle piece is in his mouth.

He allows a little disappointment to filter along the edges of the kin-connection as he traces the circle. _(But with this, we won’t be able to kiss.)_

Dean’s laughter sounds through the kin-connection as it rumbles in his chest, muted by the water. _(And that’s a bad thing, huh?)_

Castiel leans in and presses his lips to the circle. Surprise flares sharply in Dean’s thoughts and it is immediately followed by frustration. He draws away from Dean slowly, ensuring to drag his scales against Dean’s legs lightly as he drifts back. Desire trips hotly against the edges of his mind and Castiel nearly grins in triumph.

He twists away and glances over his shoulder at Dean, rippling his adipose fins in teasing rolls. Dean doesn’t know the meaning of the movement. He probably doesn’t see it as any different from how Castiel usually moves them. But Castiel knows the significance and it’s the first time he’s acted like this. He ruffles his fans enticingly as he floats out of reach.

 _(Don’t think I don’t know seduction when I see it, Cas.)_ Dean paws at the water as he kicks forward, chasing after him. _(You’re radio is coming in bright and clear and I_ know _what you’re up to. The moment I catch you, I’ll make you pay for that.)_

Castiel’s laugh surprises them both and he bends out of reach of Dean’s grasping hands. He lets Dean get close several times, his fingers just brushing Castiel’s fans or scales before he rolls away again. Dean curses him for every taunt in the kin-connection and flare of his fans. Castiel’s laughter echoes in the water and the fish scatter before them.

When Dean finally manages to close his hand around the end of Castiel’s tail, fingers forcing his end-fans to fold, it’s not at all by chance. Castiel twists around and he allows Dean to drag him back so they are face to face. To his surprise, Dean pulls the black-circle out of his mouth and Castiel needs no prompting to pull Dean in with a hand on the back of his neck and kiss him. It’s only their second kiss this morning and it’s been too few. Castiel wants to kiss Dean always.

Dean has to pull away – too soon for Castiel’s liking – to take a couple breaths from the circle. It has a protrusion sticking out of one side and Dean puts that into his mouth. Castiel presses closer, wrapping his tail around Dean’s legs and keeping them floating in place with the ruffling of his adipose fins. The moment the circle piece is pulled away again, he nips at Dean’s lips and tastes his tongue. Every part of Dean’s mouth tastes like the sea and Castiel hates it. He wants _Dean_.

Every time Dean pulls away to breathe, Castiel finds all the different places on Dean’s neck that make his finger twitch over Castiel’s shoulders. Even his skin tastes like the salt of small-sea’s water and no matter where Castiel licks – his shoulders, his chest, his stomach and fingers – none of it tastes like Dean should. He can barely pick out the taste of his skin and Castiel grows more frustrated with every lick.

 _(Cas –)_ Dean tugs at his hair to pull him up from drawing circles with his tongue around one of Dean’s nipples. _(This isn’t the best place for us to be doing this.)_

Castiel hisses and flares his fans unhappily. He doesn’t want to wait until Dean has climbed out of small-sea and pulled Castiel out too. He doesn’t want to wait for him to take Castiel to the bed and for Dean to remove his clothes and put on the condoms. Castiel wants Dean’s kisses and touches _now_.

He growls and tugs at the straps over Dean’s shoulders. _(Then take this off.)_

Hesitation flickers along Dean’s mind. _(I won’t be able to breathe if I do that.)_

 _(Yes, Dean, I’m going to let you drown just so I can achieve physical pleasure.)_ He rolls his eyes and unwraps from around Dean. His fingers curl around the strap that crosses his chest and he drags Dean toward the surface.

Amusement  mingles with shock in the kin-connection. _(Holy shit. Was that sarcasm? Did I teach you_ sarcasm _? Sam is going to kill me.)_

They break the surface and Castiel seals his gills to his neck, coughing the water from his lungs as he starts tugging Dean toward the glass-wall by the platform. _(If that’s what you call it, then yes – that was sarcasm. I may not recognize it very well, but fin-kin have it too. A few of my nest-brothers are rather well versed in it.)_ He turns to face Dean and starts pawing at the clasps that hold the straps in place. _(Take this off.)_

Dean removes everything slowly, twisting a knob on the air-tank before putting the whole contraption over the edge of small-sea and onto the top of the tiered-platform. He’s just as careful with the glass-frame when he removes it too. Castiel holds his breath and sinks to tug the fin-shoes from Dean’s feet.

 _(Do you even realize that you have a thing for not telling me what you’re up to?)_ Dean takes the fin-shoes and tosses them haphazardly over the wall. _(Seriously, Cas, what’s up?)_

 _(You don’t taste like_ you _when you’re in the water.)_ Castiel presses Dean back against the wall, curling his fingers over the edge. He kisses Dean again, and again. Harder with every new press of his lips. He nips at his mouth, sucking lightly at his lower lip to soothe the sting. He kisses the taste of small-sea from Dean’s lips and licks it from his tongue. He doesn’t stop even when Dean tastes like himself again.

Noises of surprise get lost between the slick sounds of the kisses. Dean’s fingers tangle in Castiel’s hair. He wishes he could touch Dean too, but he can’t. Someone has to keep them from sinking and with what he wants to do, he won’t be able to use his tail for it. Castiel uses images in the kin-connection to instruct Dean to put his legs around his waist.

“Fuck –” Dean breathes against his mouth, heat pulsing through their link as his heels dig into the swell of Castiel’s tail. _(Not that I’m complaining – but what the heck has gotten into you today?)_

 _(You make me forget.)_ Castiel rolls his hips, rubbing his sheath and the hardening erection within against Dean. _(You make me forget how much I miss my home and my family. You make me forget my worries and Lilith. You make me forget_ everything _.)_ His chest burns with the warmth. _(Everything.)_

Dean sucks lightly at his tongue, soft and gentle in contrast to Castiel’s sharp thrusts against him. Castiel’s end-fans slap the glass with every roll of his tail, beating to get the necessary push to rub his sheath over the front of Dean’s short-pants. There’s arousal in the kin-connection, but the heat is nowhere near as hot as the burn in Castiel’s chest. It’s almost too hard to breathe through it. The only doubt in his mind is if Dean feels even slightly the same amount of this warmth as he does.

Castiel stifles a hiss when his penis unsheathes. Even in small-sea’s cool waters, Dean’s skin feels warm when his erection presses against his stomach. Dean’s hands leaves his hair for a moment, fumbling out of sight. He’s too busy making sure he knows every corner of Dean’s mouth by memory – every smooth tooth and ridge of his palate – to care what they’re doing.

When Dean’s back arches, pushing their chests together sharply, it nearly throws Castiel’s rhythm off completely. But then the barrier of clothing is gone. Castiel can still feel it stretched against his scales under his sheath, but that’s nothing to the heat of Dean’s erection pressed alongside his. Dean swallows his groan as if he was waiting for it and grins into their kiss.

 _(You got any idea how hot you are when you get desperate like this, Cas?)_ Dean pushes his hand between them, wrapping his fingers around their erections. _(Like you can’t get enough of me? Jesus, it’s fucking_ awesome _.)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he beats his tail against the glass-wall almost violently, thrusting into Dean’s fingers. They aren’t even kissing anymore. It’s nothing but hot breaths passed between them, their foreheads pressed together. He is desperate and he will never get enough of the addicting burn of Dean’s skin against his, of the myriad of sounds that he gasps and moans against Castiel’s mouth. He will never get enough of the warmth filling the kin-connection and the fever it sets in his bones.

 _(Tomorrow, Cas. Tomorrow – after our showers – you think you’re gonna be able to hold on long enough to fuck me? Or d’you want to try for that today?)_ Dean does something with his thumb that sends shards of pleasure racing down Castiel’s spine. “Tell me what you wanna do, Cas?”

He drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder, breathing the sea on his skin and everything beneath it that is Dean. How could he possibly make that decision? He’s horrified that he’s too hooked on Dean to hold out any longer than he has before and that he’ll only disappoint him again. But he wants that part of Dean. He’s never been this greedy before and he wants _everything_. He wants all of Dean. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.

But he can’t. He _can’t_. One sentry rotation, less than that even. Who knows how few days he has left with Dean and it’s not _fair_.

Dean forces his head back up with a hand on his jaw. He kisses Castiel roughly and the kin-connection chokes with the warmth he funnels into it. It’s the most he’s ever given and Castiel’s hips stutter against him. Dean’s heels press against the scales of the swell of his tail, guiding him back into a proper rhythm. Castiel’s fingers ache, his knuckles white over the edge of the glass-wall. He wants to let go and warm his palms on Dean’s skin.

Dean does that thing with his thumb again and one of his fingers press against the opening at the head of his sheath. Castiel makes a sharp noise of pleasure against Dean’s mouth and he can feel his smile against his lips. He rolls his body against Castiel’s, their chests rubbing together a few times.

 _(Can I make you come first, Cas?)_ Dean rolls his hips again and curls his free arm around Castiel’s shoulders, holding him in place tightly. _(Let me make you come.)_

 _(No.)_ Castiel snarls, the dark possession flaring in his chest. He wants Dean to come first now. It’s his turn and Castiel still doesn’t feel like he’s made up for last night. _(Stop doing that thing with your hand and just–)_ He stumbles over the foreign term. _(Come.)_

Dean gasps and grins, his hips jerking sharply. _(Say that out loud and I just might.)_

Castiel is confused at first before he understands what Dean is saying. He licks his lips and presses wet kisses along Dean’s jaw until he can press his tongue into his ear and trace its edges. Dean shivers at the suck to the fleshy part at the bottom of his ear and the drag of his teeth.

“Jesus – Cas, careful!”

He grins, nipping again. “Dean.” Another tremble makes Dean shake between Castiel and the glass-wall. “Dean. Come.” He repeats it, over and over and over. “Now. Come, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t, at least not at first. Castiel has to stop moving his hips and use his tail more to keep them in place so he can let go of the wall with one hand. They slide down a bit and a startled urgency buzzes along the edges of Dean’s mind before Castiel manages to steady them. He presses Dean harder against the glass-wall and growls against his ear.

His right hand drops to Dean’s hip and he can feel Dean tense. But then Dean is hitching his left leg higher, folding himself just a little more and giving Castiel the room he needs. The next growl is more of a groan at the permission Dean is giving and he presses his fingers to the stretch of skin behind his balls.

 _(Shit – cold!)_ Dean jerks against him, his breath a sharp intake beside his side-fan.

Castiel ignores it. He touches lightly, blindly over all of Dean’s sensitive places before stretching further back and dragging the tip of his middle finger over the puckered opening. Dean bites his lip and his head tilts back, thumping against the glass. His hips rock insistently against him, seeking friction while still pushing back against the fingers rubbing over his opening. Castiel puts his lips to the mark at the center of his throat, opening his mouth to press his teeth against its edges.

Dean moans – a low, rumbling noise that burrows under Castiel’s skin and settles hot in his belly. It sears trails through the storm in his veins and Castiel presses that little bit harder, the tip of one finger pushing in. He makes that noise again, louder and deeper and it reverberates over the water and through Castiel’s bones and Dean trembles hard against him.

He can’t smell Dean’s release in the air and the salt of the water is hiding any the dark scent of his arousal. For the first time he can remember, Castiel actually _hates_ water. He hates it for taking that from him. It’s some of his favourite things about being with Dean like this and now he doesn’t have it. Castiel pulls his hand away slowly and swipes at the white release in the water until it can no longer be seen.

“You –” Dean takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his head still tilted back. “– you are getting much better at this.”

Castiel  dips his head modestly, pleased with the compliment, and rubs his cheek against the side of Dean’s neck as he keens softly. He leans into Dean’s front again, rolling his hips to rub his erection against his stomach.

Dean fumbles to pull his short-pants back up, shushing Castiel gently. _(Just a sec, Cas, lemme get these up and then I’ll be more than happy to take care of you.)_

He whines, the need to achieve release throbbing through his insides. “Dean –”

Heels press into the swell of his tail and Dean rocks against him again. “Just like before, Cas. Don’t worry about me, I’m already done. Now it’s your turn. C’mon – _come._ ”

Castiel presses his forehead to Dean’s clavicle, panting heavily as he thrusts against his warm stomach. He grips the edge of small-sea and his arms strain with the effort of pulling himself up with every beat of his tail to push harder, faster. Dean’s fingers are digging into his arms. His breathing has gone all shaky again and Dean is flushed red, his freckles standing out. He kisses him again, hard and searching and desperate for the taste only Dean has.

 _(Fuck – Cas, you’re –)_ Dean’s thoughts are broken, shattered by the waves of _want_ crashing through the kin-connection. Castiel has no idea who it belongs to.

He almost sinks his teeth into Dean’s bottom lip, snarling as the white fills his head and the buzzing drowns out even his harsh breathing. When he focuses again, Castiel is both surprised and pleased to find Dean kissing him gently and it’s his back pressed to the wall with Dean holding the edge of the glass-wall with one hand. His other arm is curved warm over Castiel’s hip, fingers spread in the small of his back and brushing the bruises they both know are there.

 _(I kinda want to ask what brought that on, but I think I know.)_ Dean drags back slowly and his smile is as warm as the feelings in the kin-connection. _(You really go crazy when I show you what it’ll be like if you fucked me, huh?)_

Castiel hums, curling his tail around Dean’s legs. Little bumps are covering Dean’s arms and shoulders and he’s starting to shiver. _(Are you cold?)_ He still feels warm under Castiel’s touch. Dean isn’t as warm as he usually is, but he is still warmer than either Castiel or the water.

_(A little. We could swim again later? After lunch, if you want.)_

_(I’d like that.)_ Castiel kisses him once more before helping Dean out of the water. His arms shake with the effort.

Dean moves all his swimming equipment to the space between the platform and the wall before he gets a towel and ties it around his wrest. Castiel watches him over the edge of glass-wall and Dean looks up at him, his smile crooked and endearing. _(You want to get out too? You’ve got a few day’s worth of scruff on you and Lilith is going to want that shaved before she gets here.)_

He frowns and rubs at his cheeks. It doesn’t feel as bad as it’s been before. _(How long til then?)_

_(Another hour or so. This didn’t eat up nearly as much time as I thought it would.)_

_(Then I’d like to come out, please.)_ Castiel tries to pull himself up, beating his tail rapidly in the water to get the force needed. His arms give out and the edge of glass-wall catches him painful in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs.

 _(Shit, you okay?)_ Dean climbs up the tiered-platform to help keep him steady him.

Castiel  frowns as Dean pulls him over the edge and seats him on the top tier before stepping down. _(My arms feel weak.)_

He laughs and uses his towel to dry Castiel enough so that he isn’t dripping wet. _(Not surprising. You did just gave them one hell of a work out. Heck, you almost look like you’re ready for a nap.)_ When done, Dean pulls him down from the top tier and cradles him to his chest.

 _(No, no nap.)_ He nuzzles his nose into the crook of Dean’s jaw, pressing as close as he can while Dean carries him to the bed. _(I’ve slept too much over the last few days.)_

As soon as Dean puts him down, Castiel gets comfortable. He pushes the blankets around until he’s satisfied and leans back against a wall of pillows with the blankets bunched up around him. Dean laughs as he changes clothing. He drapes his short-pants on the corner of small-sea and puts on his usual outfit – which is far too many layers for Castiel’s liking.

_(What do we do now?)_

_(Reading? Writing? Games? Anything you want to do, Cas.)_ He rolls up the sleeves of his outer shirt and sits on the end of the bed to pull socks on.

Castiel  absently traces the swirls on his tail. _(Can you show me more reading? I don’t want to read it, I want you to read it to me. If you don’t mind.)_

Dean shrugs and starts going through his drawers. _(Sure, I think I’ve got a Vonnegut somewhere in here.)_

He starts explaining about what exactly that is and why he enjoys those stories. Once he finds the book, Dean scrutinizes the little nest Castiel made on the bed for a moment before making a gesture with his hand. _(Scoot forward a bit, would ya?)_

Castiel complies and Dean wedges himself into the space behind him. He folds his arms around Castiel and props the book open on Castiel’s stomach. He rests his chin on Castiel’s shoulder and starts to read out loud. With his arms resting over Dean’s own, and his tail folded over one of his legs, Castiel tries to follow the written words as Dean reads. But the letters are small and they blur together. It’s easier and more enjoyable just to close his eyes and listen to Dean’s voice and the translations in the kin-connection.

Dean jostles his shoulders several pages later – more than Castiel realized had been read. _(Come on, time to shave and get ready for the Queen Bitch.)_

He groans and rolls over, wiggling his hands between Dean and the pillows and pressing his face into his shirt. _(I don’t want to. Keep reading.)_

Warm fingers shuffle through his hair and trail down the back of his neck. _(The sooner we get this over with, the sooner she’ll leave.)_

 _(No she won’t.)_ Castiel  ruffles his back-fans unhappily. _(She said that after lunch Alistair is going to be running ‘reflex tests’.)_

Dean tenses and sits up, forcing Castiel to pull away and sit on the fold of his tail. _(When did she tell you that?)_

_(Yesterday, before she left after supper.)_

He frowns darkly, displeasure curling thick in the kin-connection. _(Why didn’t you tell me sooner?)_

Castiel’s response is nothing more than the memories of Dean’s mouth on his back and their heated exchange. Dean’s ears go red around the edges and remorse slides between them, riding on apologies for his quick reaction. Castiel shares with him his brief conversation with Lilith and Dean calms more.

 _(She said no knives or needles right? And it’s not a punishment, so Alistair isn’t going to hurt you._   _Reflex tests aren’t even bad, so they should be done soon enough.)_ Dean leans forward and kisses him softly. _(We got twenty minutes.)_

He shaves on his own this time, using the small round mirror that stands on its own to see what he is doing. Dean stops every  so often while he’s tidying the room and moving the table into place to point out any places Castiel missed. He only cuts himself a few times on the curve of his jaw. They won’t be bleeding by the time Lilith gets here and such little cuts should be healed before she leaves.

Dean puts the chains back on Castiel’s wrists and waist, repeating the lines of kisses before he completes the actions. He does the same to Castiel’s neck, his tongue tracing the scales lining his gills, when he puts the collar back in place. With the door unlocked, they wait together on the bed. Dean sits behind Castiel again, his arms looped loosely around Castiel’s waist and his chin on his shoulder. They sit in silence, warmth and comfort pulsing between them.

Moments like this are Castiel’s favourite and he devotes it to memory.

Lunch is the same as Castiel’s last two meals with Lilith. It is mostly silent and completely uncomfortable, especially without the kin-connection with Dean. There are still several fish in small-sea for Castiel to eat later if he’s hungry, so he doesn’t mind that again his plate only has one piece of fish decorated with strips of dried kelp. Dean’s lunch is something he calls a ‘grilled cheese sandwich’. He lets Castiel have a bite and it is both crunchy and smooth.

Alistair and Lilith make light conversation again while they eat and Lilith only asks for the kin-connection once the meal is done to request another song. Castiel sings a legend about how mother-sea sealed the deep-giants in the true-deep as punishment for their jealous attempts to destroy the fin-kin.

Dean cleans up after the meal while Castiel sings and the guards take the silver-shell of empty dishes away. He moves Castiel  to one of the computer chairs and Lilith sits on the other one so that the guards can remove the ottoman and her fancier chair. Alistair stops Dean from putting the table back against the wall at the end of Sam’s bed.

“I’ll be needing that for my supplies.” Alistair explains as he gets a small box he had put on the ledge by the door when he entered.

Castiel watches him the whole time, but he still flinches and his fans flare defensively when Alistair slams the box down on the table. Even Dean cringes at the noise. Alistair’s eyebrow twitches and he writes on a small stack of paper bound in a black shell that he pulls from one of his pockets.

“Dim the lights, Winchester.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Lilith is translating everything through the kin-connection despite how she’s paying attention to the computer and looks monumentally bored. He looks over and catches a glance of cards in lines on the screen. He’s confused with how cards could be on the computer too when they are clearly in the little box on top of the drawers at the end of Dean’s bed.

Dean sneers at Alistair, but goes to the door and the lights lower quickly. Castiel’s natural glow starts up almost immediately and he fights not to move when Alistair leans much too close to his face. He slaps Alistair’s hand away when he tries to grab Castiel’s chin and he narrows his eyes at him.

Alistair sighs and makes a gesture toward Dean with one hand. “Turn them back on.”

Castiel squints against the lights and his upper lip curls as Alistair continues leaning in too close to him. He draws away eventually and writes more on his stack of papers. While he’s doing that, Castiel gestures for Dean and points at what Alistair is writing on.

Dean glances at it and shrugs. “Notebook.”

He nods and points to the computer and what Lilith is doing. “Computer cards?”

Lilith looks at him, surprised. Dean only nods again. “Card game. Solitaire.”

Castiel makes a noise of acknowledgement and turns his attention back to Alistair. He watches closely as Alistair opens the little box and lifts out a stick with a round stone attached to one end of it. When he approaches him with it, Castiel hisses and flares his fans.

Dean’s hand falls on his shoulder and it’s a comforting weight. He squeezes lightly. “Lilith, you need to explain the tests to Cas. He’s not going to let Alistair anywhere near him if he doesn’t know what’s going to happen.”

She shrugs, not taking her eyes from the screen. ”He hasn’t asked.”

Castiel grimaces. He doesn’t like talking to Lilith anymore than he has to. He leans into Dean’s side, his shoulder bumping his hip and wraps his arm around Dean’s leg. Alistair makes a sound Castiel doesn’t immediately recognize, but it makes Dean’s grip on his shoulder tighten almost painfully. Castiel concedes and he lets a few curls of curiosity over the walls that keep his mind safe from Lilith’s thoughts.

She sighs, almost sounding annoyed. _(He’s going to tap at your tail with that little hammer to see if you have any knee jerk reactions. I don’t see why he has to do it. You don’t even have knees.)_

It does seem ridiculous. Well, as long as it isn’t going to hurt… He gestures for Alistair to continue. Castiel stifles a growl in his throat and digs his fingers into Dean’s thigh as Alistair makes lines back and forth across his tail with the hammer. He starts at the bend of Castiel’s tail where it folds over the edge of the chair and works his way down.

When he reaches the end of his tail, he writes a little bit more in his notebook before starting again, this time working his way up toward Castiel’s lap from the bend. Castiel’s back-fans rustling uncomfortably the closer Alistair gets to his sheath. He flinches when Dean reaches out suddenly and stops Alistair sharply with a tight hand around his wrist.

Alistair tries pulling his hand away. “Let go, Winchester.”

“I don’t care what bullshit tests you have to run. I’m not letting you touch Cas there.” Dean’s voice is hard and cold. It sends shivers down Castiel’s spine, and his adipose fins ripple.

Lilith leans back in her chair, turning to look toward them. “What’s going on?”

“Winchester is stopping me from doing my tests.” Alistair stands up straight when Dean lets go, a too smug smirk pulling at his mouth.

Dean’s lips curl and his fingers are digging almost painfully into Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you hit his goddamn sheath with a hammer. And if you’ve got any sick ideas of studying Cas’s dick, you can go fuck yourself. You’ve already enslaved him and tortured him – there’s no way in hell I’m letting you _sexually assault_ him too.”

Alistair’s face twists in disgust and Lilith mirrors the look. She’s translating, however poorly, everything Dean is saying and Castiel’s fans flare at his understanding. He hugs Dean’s leg tighter and folds his tail to his chest, hissing quietly.

“Didn’t your mammoth brother tell you anything? We already know everything that we want to know about his mating habits.” Alistair drops the hammer back into the box and busies himself with his notebook. “We even have a composite sketch from his descriptions.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Sam hasn’t seen Cas’s dick.”

Lilith rolls her eyes and turns back to the computer. “Why don’t you just text him and find out.”

“Why don’t you just let Cas and me talk so he can explain himself?” Dean snaps and he sits heavily on the ledge just behind Castiel, forcing him to let go of his leg. “I’m getting fucking _sick_ of not being able to talk with him.”

“Fine. Go ahead, Castiel. Make the kin-connection with Dean.”

Castiel looks at her sharply, surprise forcing his fans to flare as wide as they can before they’re stopped by the back of the chair. Hope bubbles high in his chest and it doesn’t matter that he already uses it without her permission. If he had her consent they wouldn’t have to sneak around and he could have the comfort and warmth of Dean’s thoughts while in Lilith’s presence. The hope shatters the moment he realizes she’s holding the pendant. 

He flinches back and hugs the fold of his tail tightly to his chest. “No!”

She smiles brightly and reaches over to pat him on the head. “That’s a good boy, Castiel. See, Dean? He doesn’t want to talk with you.”

“Gee, I wonder _why_.” Dean hisses  lowly. His hand fits over Castiel’s shoulder again. “Cas doesn’t have any reflex spots on his tail. What do you want to know this all for? So you can use his sensitive spots against him in the future?”

“So we can care for him if he gets hurt, you colossal idiot.” Alistair says, almost casually. He lifts a long tube from the box and holds it toward Dean. “Unroll some of that and hold it three inches in front of his face.”

Dean is slow to comply, and from the roll he unwraps a sheet of clear paper. He holds it in front of Castiel’s face. Castiel unfolds and touches the substance. His fingers drag at the odd clear-paper but they don’t go through it.

Alistair takes something from the box and throws it at Castiel’s face without warning. Dean’s hands twitch, but Castiel does not. The item falls into Castiel’s lap and it’s nothing but a small, round ball. He leans over to place it back on the table while Alistair writes in his notebook. Dean rolls up the clear paper again and Alistair takes it from him. He packs everything into the box.

“I’m done for now. Anything else will need different equipment we don’t have on board.” He tucks his notebook back in his pocket. “I look forward to playing with you again, bright-eyes.” Alistair’s grin is twisted and Castiel tries to duck out from under his hand when he pets him.

He waits by the door as Lilith finishes with her card game. She scoots her chair closer to Castiel’s and her fingers are cold as they brush against his neck while removing the blue collar. Lilith replaces it with a one of black braided rope that is decorated with little blue shine-stones. Her hand stays on her pendant when Castiel kisses her quickly and Lilith smiles brightly again. He’s never seen her smile this much before and it’s unnerving.

Lilith runs her fingers through his hair in what may be intended to be a soothing gesture. _(Good boy, Castiel. I’ll see you again for supper tonight.)_ She pats his cheek and gives Castiel the instructions to cut the kin-connection as she leaves with Alistair.

Dean locks the door the moment it’s closed and he settles heavily in Castiel’s lap, his legs splayed around his hips. He doesn’t wait to make sure that Lilith is completely gone. There’s red on Castiel’s lips again and Dean wipes it away before kissing him soundly, forcing him to lean into the back of the chair. He touches everywhere Lilith and Alistair did, as if to cleanse Castiel of their touch.

They kiss until Castiel can barely breathe, gasping minute breaths between every other slip-slide of Dean’s tongue and lips. His scalp tingles with how many times Dean ran his fingers through it and every little tug he gave to tilt Castiel’s head to where he wanted him. Castiel’s hands started on Dean’s hips, holding him in place. But now one of them is cradling the small of his back and the other rests heavily on the back of his neck.

Castiel is thankful that Lilith never noticed the marks Dean left on his back. He doesn’t know how obvious they are or whether or not they’re hidden by the webbing of his back-fans when they’re folded down, but he hopes Dean has a good excuse if she does notice them. Dean wouldn’t have done the marks in the first place if he wasn’t sure that he would be able to keep Castiel from being hurt.

“Kin-connection, Cas.” Dean murmurs against his lips, thumbs rubbing over the scales on his cheeks. “Make the damn link.”

He complies immediately, reveling in the burst of warmth and relief and _mineminemine_. Dean sighs, a hot wash of air over his mouth, before he sits back slowly. His eyes are focused on Castiel’s neck and his expression is dark. Loathing burns along the edges of the kin-connection and Dean kisses him again, harder and more demanding. His hands fumble at the back of Castiel’s neck and the new collar slides off. Castiel hears it skitter on the counter and it’s quickly followed by the chains. Once Castiel is free of all ofLilith’s marks of ownership, Dean slides out of his lap and stands. Castiel blinks up at him, touching concern to the edges of his mind.  

 _(I’m okay, Cas.)_ Dean smiles and picks him up with his tail folded over one arm. _(Are you?)_

_(Alistair’s tests seemed random and pointless. What could he have possibly learned from them?)_

_(You’re awesome, that’s what.)_ Dean laughs, placing him on the bed as they were sitting before. He picks up the book he’d left on the pillows. _(They were stupid tests we do with kids and stuff. I bet they did it just to mess with us instead of actually having any_ point _. Oh, and before we get back to the book – what the fuck is up with Sam knowing what your dick looks like?)_

Castiel wiggles until he is settled comfortably against Dean’s chest. _(He doesn’t know mine specifically. But I did show him examples when we were discussing reproduction.)_ He stretches his tail out before draping it over one of Dean’s legs. _(Unless one of my colony-kin saw me while sleeping, no one but you and I have seen my penis.)_

Satisfaction settles through  the kin-connection and Dean opens the book over Castiel’s stomach again, his chin on his shoulder. _(Good.)_

_(Speaking of Sam, have you messaged him or Meg since you ate breakfast?)_

There’s silence for several moments before Dean swears. _(Shit! No, I totally forgot about it. You’re really fucking distracting, you know that right?)_

_(I do now.)_

Castiel sits up to give Dean room while he starts rummaging through the blankets and pillows. _(I swear I tossed it on the bed when I got changed into my trunks. Fuck – where did it go?)_ His frantic searching forces Castiel further down the bed until he’s pressed against the drawers and Dean is on his feet, pulling the pillows and the blankets from the bed.

He sees the phone from there and stifles a smile. _(Dean.)_

_(I gotta find the phone, Cas, give me a sec.)_

_(Dean. It’s right here.)_ Castiel takes the phone from on top of the drawers and holds it out to him.

Embarrassment tickles the kin-connection and Castiel smiles at the red that makes Dean’s freckles stand out on his cheeks. Dean sets the bed up the same as it was before and they settle into the same position again. The book lays open on Castiel’s stomach on the page they left off on. He holds the phone much closer than he does the book and Castiel can clearly see all the letters that make up the words on the small screen. None of them mean anything to him.

He watches, fascinated by the movements of Dean’s fingers, as he pushes button after button to form messages. Dean spends several minutes sending the communications and catching up on everything he missed during the morning.  Again Dean doesn’t tell Castiel anything about the messages, but surprise and anticipation spark pleasantly along the edges of his mind and it fuels Castiel’s curiosity.

Dean is about to put the phone aside when he pauses and turns it around so the back is facing them. _(Smile, Cas.)_

_(You’re taking another photo.)_

He sighs and presses his cheek against Castiel’s side fan. _(Yeah, I am. Now smile.)_

Castiel smiles the best he can on command and holds it until the click. Dean turns the phone around to check the image and delight curls deep into the warmth of the kin-connection. It’s a nice picture and Castiel’s chest only twinges slightly knowing that he won’t get to have something like that. His smile doesn’t show his teeth, but it’s soft and warm and Dean’s presses a kiss against his side-fan.

 _(It’s perfect. Thanks, Cas.)_ He sets the phone aside and picks up the book.

Dean reads for several more pages before the phone goes off again. Castiel prompts him to answer the message before continuing and Dean presses another kiss to his shoulder. While he’s reading the message, Castiel wonders whether they should take this break in the reading to spray his scales and fans. His musings cut out the moment Dean’s surprise shatters the calm in the kin-connection.

It’s followed but a profound silence and it worries Castiel. He pushes the book away and turns to see Dean’s face. Dean is staring at the phone with wide eyes and the only word Castiel has to describe his expression is ‘hopeful’.

 _(Dean?)_ He’s cautious with pressing his curiosity at Dean’s mind and he touches his hand gently. _(What happened?)_

 _(Meg – she just –)_ Dean looks up at him suddenly, a wide grin splitting his face and pure _joy_ singing through the kin-connection. _(She said two days, Cas – not tomorrow, but the day after. She said to make sure we have everything we can’t part with ready because in two days we’re getting the hell out of here and you’re going_ home _.)_


	27. Recording

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His groan of disapproval gets muffled by the shirt as Dean starts to squirm, trying to work his leg out from under Castiel’s tail. Castiel moves his hands, dragging his nails over Dean’s sides exactly where he knows that he is ticklish. The noise Dean makes is loud, high pitched, and surprising to the both of them. He looks up at Dean and thinks they might both have the same wide-eyed look. Dean’s ears are red and the blush spreads under his freckles the longer Castiel stares at him.
> 
>  
> 
> _(That never happened.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, ekkulion, procrastinationisavirtue, thelittlearchangelthatcould, and rubysrockette.
> 
>  
> 
> _There were so many pictures this week that I split them up for this chapter and Sunday's. Anyone not featured here who submitted in the last few days will be in tomorrow's chapter!_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)!**
> 
>  
> 
> I am so sorry for how late this is! I know it was supposed to be up on Thursday, but I've been sick on and off the last few days and I just didn't have the mental or physical energy to get this completed on time. I really struggled with this chapter and I am so sorry for how badly it sucks.

_(You still haven’t told me_ how _we’re going to escape.)_ Castiel pulls at the walls around Dean’s mind, dragging his curiosity against them much the same way he’s dragging Dean back and forth across small-sea by his wrists. _(Has Meg even told you? How are we supposed to trust her if she won’t share the details? What if it’s just another of Lilith’s traps?)_

Castiel is swimming backwards so he can see Dean. It’s with gentle prompting through the kin-connection that Dean tells him when he’s approaching the wall and he changes course. Dean rubs his thumbs along the understand of Castiel’s wrists in comforting circles. _(You know I can’t tell you. But she did explain it to me and Sam, and it’s a sound plan. It’s a fucking_ awesome _plan. We won’t even need our lifeboat plan and we’re all going to get out of here – you, me, Sam and Jess, Bobby and Pam, Meg too. We’re going to get out of here and Lilith won’t be able to do a thing about it.)_

 _(But_ how _–)_ Castiel slides to a stop, almost sitting for how close he is to the floor.

Dean shakes his head, cutting him off. _(I shouldn’t have even told you that Meg had a plan, Cas. We can’t take the risk. You understand.)_

No matter how many times they have this conversation it never changes that he does understands. And that’s part of the reason he hates it. It’s logical that he be kept in the dark, even though he knows there’s no way that Lilith could forcefully get the information from him through the kin-connection. She would have to torture him to a point where he would give anything to make her stop and if he ever reached that position, Castiel would likely have no control over himself by then. But he would rather suffer her punishments than betray Dean and his family. He’s just not sure what he might do under the pain of the shock-tag.

A warm hand cups his jaw and Dean’s thumb presses under his bottom lip. _(Don’t pout, Cas.)_

Castiel jerks away, rolling his tail so he slips out of Dean’s reach. _(I’m not pouting. Warriors don’t pout.)_

Amusement pulses through the kin-connection and he can hear Dean’s laugh rumbling in his chest. _(And now you’re just sulking. You really should stop being so cute. It just makes me want to kiss you.)_

He glares over his shoulder at Dean and continues to drift just outside of arm’s length, even as Dean tries swimming closer. _(I am neither sulking, nor am I cute. And you are not allowed to kiss me.)_ They both know that his words are nothing but false bravado. He can never refrain from kissing Dean for very long – especially not now that he knows he only has a few more days with him.

Dean’s eyes crinkle at their corners behind the glass-frame and he raises his hands. _(Oh, I see how it is.)_ He flips his legs forward and starts kicking back toward the platform-wall. His thoughts curl teasingly through the kin-connection to slide along his own. _(I’ll just leave you to your not-sulking then. When you’re done, we can read some more, or play cards, or even-)_ A few searing images slip into their link and Castiel’s fans flare automatically.

Castiel shakes his head and firmly shoves the images back. He crosses his arms over his chest and glowers at Dean from the other side of small-sea. He has many more questions about what is supposed to happen in two days and Dean is refusing to give him any further information. As a soldier – let alone as a _strategist_ – it is very difficult to provide any form of assistance without being properly informed. He’s frustrated, and annoyed and he doesn’t want to deal with Dean’s teasing right now.

For a few moments, Dean floats just shy of the surface and he watches Castiel closely. Resignation settles slowly over his mind and he paddles his hands to get himself to sink. _(It really bothers you, huh?)_

_(It wouldn’t bother you?)_

_(Yeah, it totally would. But don’t you trust me, Cas?)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple and he frowns at the floor. _(Yes, of course I do. It’s Meg and her sudden decision to assist us that I don’t trust. It’s too good to be true and it worries me. Why didn’t she put this plan into motion before? Why did she wait til now?)_

He can feel Dean’s indecision fill the kin-connection and when Castiel looks up, Dean is running his hand through his hair and staring over his shoulder at the door. Castiel waits in silence for several long minutes before Dean’s shoulders slump and he looks back at him.

 _(I can’t tell you_ everything _, okay?)_

His fans flare again and he perks up. Castiel twists forward, tail flicking to send him across small-sea. He fits himself to Dean’s chest and slips his arms around his waist, resting them just under the tank of air on his back. His added weight makes them sink completely until Dean is sitting on the floor and Castiel is pressed against him, tail curled loosely around one leg.

Dean’s laugh reverberates beneath his cheek and his arms fold around Castiel’s shoulders. _(Just some vague things, okay? I want to tell you everything, I do. Coz’ it sucks leaving you in the dark when this is all for you in the first place, but there are risks we just can’t take.)_

 _(I know, Dean. But I still want to know.)_ He nudges his forehead against Dean’s chin. _(Please tell me what you can.)_

His hands – still so warm, even in small-sea – brush over the top-spines of his back-fans, fingers playing with the webbing. _(There’s… Jesus, I’m shit at being subtle. There’s going to be outside help. Help with firepower.)_

Castiel contemplates this while Dean guides his back-fans to spread wide, fold closed, and spread open again. _(So there will be more humans? New ones. With more weapons than Lilith’s people have?)_

_(Yup.)_

_(And we’re just supposed to trust them implicitly? What if they’re no better than Lilith?)_ His tail curls tighter, adipose fins rippling. _(What if they’re worse?)_

Dean’s hands fall heavily over his back-fans and he hugs Castiel tightly. _(You’ll never know if they are or aren’t. As soon as the plan starts and we’re out on deck, you’re going overboard. You’re going to swim as far and as fast as you can and you’re not going to look back.)_

Something sharp and painful digs a home in Castiel’s chest. _(But what about the shock-tag? And the possibility of another tracking tag? I can’t go home with either of those. And I’m not leaving you until I know that you’re going to be safe too.)_

 _(Once you’re out of range of the remote control, that fucking shock-tag isn’t going to be able to hurt you.)_ One hand slides down Castiel’s spine, lingering by his shoulder blade where they both know the last tag had been. _(And we have no proof that they stuck another tracker on you. I didn’t see any welts and I would have noticed, trust me on that. Especially since I’ve tasted just about every inch of you. Did you have any sore spots like the last time?)_

Castiel shakes his head. _(No, there’s been no pain. Not like before, and not like the pain where the shock-tag is – I felt it every time you touched there. But I can’t risk the colony’s safety. I won’t return to them without being absolutely certain that no human will be able to follow me there. And I’m still not leaving unless you’re safe.)_

 _(Cas, Lilith could care less about me. It’s you she wants and it’s_ you _anyone else will be interested in.)_ Dean’s fingers rub over the back of his neck and the edge of his hairline where the shock-tag is hidden under his skin. _(I didn’t like the idea of letting anyone else know about you, but Meg said her contacts already know and that’s why they’re helping. I think they’re some activist group, or something, and they just want you to be free.)_

He growls and turns his face into Dean’s neck, pressing his nose against the dip in his clavicle. _(I don’t like it.)_

Dean rests his chin on the top of his head, absently stroking whatever skin or scales lay under his hands. _(Neither do I. It’s great that we’re getting you out, yeah, but I don’t really want to put my hope in a bunch of people I don’t even know. I’ve got enough trust issues to start with and if I could, I’d rather get you out by myself. But Lilith has me pinned when she’s got every weak spot I have under a gun, or a tag.)_

It takes a moment to realize what Dean said and Castiel’s fans flare the moment he understands. He lifts his head to look at Dean, but his face is tilted toward the surface and the light is reflecting on the glass. Even though he can’t see Dean’s eyes, he can see the corners of his lips tilt up around the black-circle over his mouth. Warmth ripples through the kin-connection and Dean’s arms tighten when Castiel presses a kiss to his chin.

 _(We gonna have a repeat of this morning?)_ Dean shifts his legs slightly, just a fraction that has Castiel settling easier between them. A few curls of arousal tremble around his words and Dean tilts his head back more, baring his throat and the bruise.

Castiel  shakes his head and presses a kiss to the mark. He’d like to, but he’s still feeling the tight press of trepidation around his heart and lungs. If Meg’s friends do manage to get them out, Castiel has less than two days left with Dean. He wants to take every chance he can to devote everything about Dean and his body to memory, but the thought of doing anything more than this makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

He’s not scared of doing those things with Dean and not having them again. Castiel has already come to terms with that and he’ll face any regret when the time comes. He wants those memories so he’ll have something to look back on when he feels alone. But the sadness weighing on his heart dampens any arousal he might feel at Dean’s images, or words, or even the feel of his body under him. It doesn’t hinder the warmth that glows along his bones and curls around his insides, and that fuels the gentle touch of his lips to Dean’s neck, to his collarbone and anywhere he can reach without really moving.

Dean’s hum vibrates the skin under his mouth and a hand pushes up into his hair. It’s eerily similar to what happened a few hours ago after Dean had told him of their time limit together. Castiel had been stunned, certainly, and conflicting emotions had stormed through him to the point that it had made him dizzy. There had been hope, and happiness, but those had been darkened by his doubts, his distrust for other humans, and his fear.

His first reaction had been to hug Dean, to press him back against the pillows with a hard kiss that left them both panting. It was little different to how he’d so blindly pawed at Dean when he had told Castiel Lilith’s plans. This time, Dean had stopped him before he could get his hands under his clothing in another desperate attempt to escape his misery at having to leave Dean sooner than expected.

 _(If you’re really worried about tags, you don’t have to go too far. You just get away from here until we’re done dealing with Lilith and this boat.)_ Dean nudges his fingers behind Castiel’s side-fans, distracting him from the memories. _(When we leave on the other one, you can come back. If they’re not a research vessel and don’t have an x-ray machine, I’m sure that Pam can think up something and we’ll check you over and get that shock-tag out.)_

Castiel nudges his nose under Dean’s jaw, tilting his head into the press of his fingers. _(But what if they’re just like Lilith?)_

 _(I’ll let you know if they’re not trustworthy. If they aren’t, you stay the hell away. You turn around and you dive down and you go home. Don’t worry about the tags, okay?)_ One hand presses down over the spot between Castiel’s shoulder blades. _(Ash may not have been able to get into the closed system on the boat, but he’s hacked into more satellites than I can count. If there’s a chip in you, he’ll find the signal and knock it out. And that shocker won’t work without the remote so you’ll be fine.)_

A lump squeezes tight in his throat and Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s back. He wants to ask if there’s any chance of seeing Dean again, or if Dean will even want to see him once all of this is over. Despite the warmth that pulsates constantly through the kin-connection, Castiel can’t forget that Dean never intended for their relationship to be like this. Dean had even said that he wasn’t looking for anything like what Castiel wants – and Castiel wants Dean as his mate in all senses of the word.   

It’s possible that Dean’s view on the matter has changed, but Castiel is too scared to ask. If Dean says ‘no’, it will hurt. And a ‘yes’ would be even worse. If Dean ever says that he wants to be Castiel’s mate too, how Castiel could ever possibly leave him.

The question weighs heavy on his tongue and in his mind. He can’t think of any way that he would get see Dean again – but that’s because he knows so little about humans. There’s more to their world than he knows and maybe there’s something in it that will allow Dean to see him again. Dean will never be able to come down to the trench and see the colony, but maybe he could go back to the light-beds and Castiel could visit him?

Dean shifts under his cheek and one of his hands leaves. Castiel feels the loss of warmth on his skin and he whines, nipping disapprovingly at Dean’s collarbone. As disorganized as his thoughts are now, and the mess of his emotions boiling behind the walls in his mind, Castiel is comfortable in the heat of Dean’s body. He catches himself before he can start thinking about how once he gets home he won’t have this again.

_(Cas, the air tank is low. I won’t be able to stay down here much longer.)_

Castiel  reluctantly draws away. He follows Dean up to the surface, but keeps his mouth and gills under the water as Dean removes all his gear, putting it over the glass-wall and onto the tiered platform. Dean rubs his hands over his face and wiggles his jaw from side to side a few times before smiling at Castiel.

_(What do you want to do? Stay in here or come out with me?)_

He chews his bottom lip lightly and slides closer, wedging himself against Dean’s chest again. Castiel presses his lips to the scabbed bite on Dean’s left shoulder. If he could, he’d like to preserve this moment as it is, with just him and Dean in the water. His mind is too cluttered for him to be truly interested in anything sexual, but Dean’s body is addicting in its heat and the feel and taste of his skin. It’s a pleasure to touch whether it makes him harden in his sheath or not.

 _(I’ll take this as you wanting to come out too.)_ Dean laughs and the sound echoes on the water as he puts one arm around Castiel’s shoulders, the cast heavy over his back-fans. _(Not interested in doing anything, huh? You’re not over thinking everything again, are you?)_

Castiel winces at the question. He doesn’t answer and Dean sighs against his side-fan. _(It’s going to be fine, Cas. I wouldn’t be going through with Meg’s plan if it wasn’t a good, solid one.)_

 _(That’s not what I’m thinking about.)_ He rests his cheek over the bite mark. His fears regarding that have more or less been appeased. It’s everything about losing Dean that clouds his thoughts and steals his desire he has to do anything – and that includes reading, or playing cards, or even talking.

 _(Then what’s up? You practically shut down after – is it because I stopped you again? You know it’s not because I don’t want to, right?)_ Dean’s confusion presses heavily through the kin-connection, concern in every word. _(I just don’t want to do it without you actually being there and enjoying it too. And I’m not a distraction, Cas. You can’t just use me like that whenever you_ want _to forget something.)_

Castiel winces again and ducks his head. He knows it’s not right to purposefully search for distraction when he touches Dean, but he can’t help it. Dean is very good at making him forget. He leans back and glances up at Dean and the small frown creasing his forehead.

 _(I’m sorry.)_ He narrows his side-fans and flattens them. _(I didn’t mean to be insulting.)_

 _(It’s actually a little flattering. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay. As long as you know that, then it’s fine now.)_ Dean tilts his head forward and their foreheads bump. _(You gonna tell me what’s wrong?)_

He wants to, he wants to tell him everything and beg for Dean to find a way for them to see each other again. But he can’t. It would be asking too much of Dean, more than he’s willing to give. Castiel already knows this. Dean has already said it. He shakes his head and tilts his chin up to kiss him.

Dean pulls away after just a few moments. _(Is it about the escape?)_

He dips his head again, neither confirming nor denying. _(I don’t want to talk about it.)_

Concern curls through the kin-connection and he can feel Dean watching him closely. A resigned sigh sounds between them and Dean presses a kiss to his forehead. _(If you’re going to be a downer the rest of the day, I’m just going to keep asking until you tell me. Just keep in mind, we’ve got two days left. Do you really want to spend it too lost in your head to enjoy it?)_ Dean’s hand moves to his shoulder and pushes at it slightly. _(I’ve gotta hit the washroom. You gonna stay in here until I get back or do you want to come out now?)_

_(Out, please.)_

Castiel helps Dean out of the tank and waits until he’s ready to help him. Dean arranges a bunch of towels on the floor next to his bed and places Castiel on them while he changes from his swim-shorts to regular clothing. Castiel dries off the excess water before pulling himself up onto the bed. His arms still feel weak from this morning and even coiling and pushing with his tail doesn’t get him all the way up. He manages to get onto his belly before Dean helps him the rest of the way.

 _(I’ll be right back.)_ Dean kisses the back of his head before Castiel is turned around and settled. He cuts the kin-connection himself as he’s going out the door.

While Dean is gone, Castiel makes himself comfortable among the pillows and blankets. He likes that they’ve kept the ones from Sam and Jess’s bed and wonders, if they asked, if Lilith would give them more. If there were more pillows, he could line the edges of the bed with them and neither he nor Dean would accidentally hit the wall or the drawers. Castiel has done that a few times with his tail and it hasn’t exactly hurt, but it’s annoying.

He picks up the book that Dean was reading to him and tries to focus his thoughts on the plot of the story. If he can stop thinking about leaving Dean, maybe they could read the book again and Dean would stop worrying about him. Castiel hates feeling like this and he hates that he’s troubling Dean with it. But it would be more upsetting for Dean if he told him everything that fills his head.

Dean returns and Castiel forces himself to smile up at him as he holds out the book. He reestablishes the kin-connection immediately. _(Can we read again, please?)_ It’ll be nice to listen to Dean’s voice again and be curled against his warmth.

 _(Sure. We got another few hours before supper. You want to read the whole time?)_ He takes the book and settles next to Castiel on the bed, keeping his arms raised out of the way so Castiel can settle against him.

Castiel chooses to lay on Dean like they were in the tank, with his arms around his waist and his cheek on his chest. He can hear Dean’s heartbeat against his side-fan and it is a steady rhythm with his words as he starts reading again. Dean continues until his leg falls asleep under Castiel’s tail. By then, Castiel has nearly been lulled asleep by the constant rumble of his voice under his cheek.

“You still with me, Cas?”

He hums and rubs his cheek into Dean’s shirt, making him laugh. “Y’gotta let my leg go, it’s all tingly and stuff. If you want to curl up, there is another leg you could use.”

His groan of disapproval gets muffled by the shirt as Dean starts to squirm, trying to work his leg out from under Castiel’s tail. Castiel moves his hands, dragging his nails over Dean’s sides exactly where he knows that he is ticklish. The noise Dean makes is loud, high pitched, and surprising to the both of them. He looks up at Dean and thinks they might both have the same wide-eyed look. Dean’s ears are red and the blush spreads under his freckles the longer Castiel stares at him.

_(That never happened.)_

_(I’m quite sure that it did.)_

_(No, no it didn’t.)_

_(I’m_ certain _it did.)_ To make his point, Castiel forces his hands under Dean’s shirt and repeats the motion.

The noise dies in Dean’s throat, but he squirms and shoves at Castiel’s arms. “Cut it out!”

Castiel pulls back sharply and drops his weight over Dean’s legs. He hears the book hit the floor and Dean’s hands tug gently – but insistently – at his back-fans. “Cas, don’t you dare!”

 _(Don’t do what?)_ He asks, running one finger innocently over the top of Dean’s toes through his socks. _(Don’t do this?)_ His finger dips down over the bottom of his foot and Dean’s legs twitch under him. _(Or did you mean this?)_ He drums the tips of all four fingers lightly in the middle of his foot and Dean makes the noise again.

Dean starts laughing and he paws at Castiel’s sides, trying to pull him away from his feet. He can’t even form words through the kin-connection or with his voice. Their link is full of Castiel’s amusement and Dean’s laughter. There are curls of annoyance, and pleading, but Dean isn’t angry with him for the tickling so Castiel sees no point in stopping any time soon. He continues until Dean is folded over Castiel’s back, his arms around his waist and gasping for breath against his shoulder.

The moment Castiel lets go, Dean drags him back up the bed and pins him to the pillows. Castiel grins up at the disapproving scowl that doesn’t match the soft eyes above it. Dean settles with his knees on either side of Castiel’s hips and purposefully pinches his adipose fins in retaliation, making him wince.

Dean starts tracing the blue lines along his sides.  _(Well, at least you’re smiling now. You in a better mood than earlier?)_

Castiel nods. Dean’s laughter is a good balm for his thoughts. He tugs at Dean’s outer shirt. _(How much time do we have until dinner?)_

 _(Enough.)_ Dean shrugs his outer shirt off and removes his other one just as quickly.

He still doesn’t quite feel like doing anything at the moment, but Castiel also doesn’t feel the need to lose himself in Dean like he did earlier. Maybe he’ll feel more like it the more they touch right now. Castiel doesn’t think that what he wants to do right now is the same as what Dean said he shouldn’t do earlier. He’s not using Dean as a distraction now.

Castiel pulls Dean down to him with a hand on the back of his neck. He can still taste the salt of small-sea on his lips, but his tongue tastes like Dean and Castiel revels in it. His back arches to push his chest up into the warm touch of Dean’s fingers. When Dean lightly traces around his nipples, Castiel whines until Dean touches them firmly and he groans against his mouth.

He tries to repay the touch, his own hands playing over Dean’s back and along his ribs, but Dean grabs his wrists and presses them to the bed at his sides. Dean smiles at the growl that rumbles in Castiel’s throat. _(Let me have my fun first, Cas.)_

_(Why can’t I touch too?)_

_(Because I know how much you like touching me-)_ Dean slides his lips and tongue and teeth over Castiel’s jaw and along his neck. _(-and this is your punishment for the tickling.)_

Something that feels a lot like irritation tickles along the edges of the kin-connection as Dean’s tongue drags over his pulse point. He opens his mouth over that spot, like he did days ago to show Castiel how to make a hickey, and his tongue runs over the fading mark he left there before he moves on. Castiel pushes his chest into the press of his mouth as Dean licks his way further down.

Castiel tries to pull his arms free, but Dean’s weight is still heavy on his wrists. Heat is curling through his veins, burning over and under his skin along the path of Dean’s lips and tongue. When his teeth graze over one of his nipples, Castiel’s head thumps back against the pillow and he tries to stifle the whine that claws its way into the air.

He can feel Dean’s smile against his skin as he moves from one side of his chest to the other. Dean spends several long minutes paying close attention to his nipples. It makes Castiel’s tail twist back and forth over the bed and he wishes Dean would _move_ and touch elsewhere – or even just let him touch. It doesn’t matter that Dean’s hips are rocking and rubbing his weight over Castiel’s sheath in a pleasing press that sends shivers through his bones.

 _(Dean –)_ Castiel tugs fruitlessly at his arms and he whimpers when Dean slides lower, the weight leaving his lap so his lips can trace the blues lines of his glow pattern on his sides.

 _(After Lilith’s last dinner with you tomorrow, the last time she’s going to see you, I’m going to cover you in hickeys, Cas.)_ Dean keeps sliding lower until he finds the arch of Castiel’s hip. He sucks lightly at the thin skin, not nearly hard or long enough to leave any kind of a mark, but the point is made. _(I’m going to do everything to you that she forbade.)_

Castiel squirms under the drag of his tongue along where skin becomes scale and he bites his bottom lip, muffling his groan at the images and the heat that sears through the kin-connection. Dean laughs against his belly and presses hard against his wrists again. _(You leave these here. If they move, if you touch me, we’re going to stop.)_

 _(I only tickled you a little bit.)_ Castiel squirms, curling his fingers tightly in the blankets. _(Dean, you’re not being fair.)_

Dean hums in agreement and he presses his tongue to the slit of his sheath. Castiel’s shout of surprise echoes off of small-sea and Dean’s satisfaction curls through the kin-connection with his amusement. He can feel the hard line of Dean’s erection through his jeans as he keeps rubbing against Castiel’s tail. His knuckles are white with how hard he’s gripping the blankets as Dean pays close attention to the widening slit, the muscles twitching under his tongue.

 _(The thing about me, Cas, is that sometimes I like making my partner squirm.)_ Dean’s hand is warm against his scales when he presses it over his sheath, thumb stroking teasingly. _(Sometimes I can be a little cruel because I like to see you beg. If you want to touch, you have to ask me nicely.)_

Castiel growls, frustration trembling the edges around his mind. Dean never stops with the movement of his hips, or the slide of his tongue and fingers. He traces the sensitive inside edge of the slit with a fingertip before using his tongue, one of his hands holding Castiel’s hips down to keep him from bucking into the touch.

 _(You sure do take more attention to get hard than anyone else I’ve met before.)_ Dean sits back slightly, pushing his palm from the base of the sheath to the head as he looks down at it. _(Is that a fin-kin thing, or just you?)_

He twitches at the brush of Dean’s fingers over the slit every time his hand reaches the head of his sheath. _(I – Dean, I am – inside the – do you have any idea how hard it is to_ think _when you keep doing that?)_

“Sure do.” He grins up at Castiel once before dipping his head again to follow his hand with his lips. _(If you’re hard inside, why isn’t it coming out?)_

Castiel shifts under the touch, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watches Dean’s actions. The muscles of his sheath are twitching hard and the only reason he hasn’t unsheathed yet is because he’s holding back, drawing this out for as long as he can so he has more time to memorize the feel of Dean’s hands. His control is surprising. It was so much harder to restrain himself the first few times that they touched.

 _(You’re holding back again, aren’t you?)_ Dean looks up at him, never stopping with his tongue. _(Don’t do that, Cas. Let it out. And stop biting your lip. You’ll ruin it with those teeth of yours.)_

His control slips just a little and Dean makes an approving noise as the head of Castiel’s penis pushes out through the slit. Dean sits back on Castiel’s tail, continuing to rub his sheath with one hand. _(How about we make a deal? You let it out and I’ll let you touch me.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple wildly and his fingers flex across the sheets. He can taste blood on his tongue and he knows he’s bitten too deep into his bottom lip. But he doesn’t care because Dean is leaning back further, reaching for the top drawer and Castiel knows exactly what Dean is getting. He swallows thickly and lets the rest of his control fall way. His penis is fully unsheathed by the time Dean leans forward again, another couple condoms in hand.

 _(There we go, Cas. That’s what I like to see.)_ Dean smiles warmly at him and he lightly touches the folds of pink muscle at the base of his penis. _(Have you decided yet if you want to do it today or if you’d rather wait until tomorrow?)_

He shakes his head, unsure. He wants Dean now, but they haven’t prepared him and he’s not sure if he can hold out long enough – especially if Dean insists on stroking him as he’s applying the condom. Castiel  presses up with his hips, pushing into the curl of Dean’s fingers. Dean is watching him with a raised eyebrow, his hand moving almost absently over Castiel’s erection.

 _(I don’t know if I can wait until you’re ready.)_ Castiel’s hands shake after he lets go of the sheets and he sits up as he reaches for Dean. _(We would need to prepare you beforehand or I -)_ He bites his lip again, embarrassed to explain further.

Dean looks down as Castiel’s fingers work to undo the button of his pants. The moment they’re open, he rises up onto his knees and Castiel tugs the clothing – including his underpants – down. His hands leave him for only as long as it takes to remove his jeans completely. Dean takes a moment to put the other condom on himself before he settles down again, sitting much higher up in Castiel’s lap – high enough that he can hold their erections together easily.

 _(Tomorrow then. We can prep me before I get you all excited.)_ Dean starts rolling his hips, his erection a line of heat pushing against Castiel. _(That sound good?)_

Castiel nods and replaces one of Dean’s hands with his own, curling his fingers around them both. The other he uses to pull Dean forward into another kiss, eager to taste his tongue again. Dean turns his face at the last moment so the kiss falls to the side of his mouth.

 _(I said it before. I’m not into blood play. You’re gonna taste like blood if I kiss you and I don’t want that.)_ Dean kisses the base of Castiel’s side-fan instead. _(I told you not to bite your lips. You should have listened.)_

He hisses, frowning against the side of Dean’s neck. He can’t help that his teeth are so sharp. But the cuts should heal soon, hopefully. Castiel traces his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and winces at the sting. It’s not fair and when Dean sits back again, there’s a smear of red on his neck. He rubs it away before Dean might notice. Castiel presses one hand to the bed, ignoring how his arm shakes, and uses it for the leverage necessary to thrust up into the grip of their hands. The motion is a good distraction from the frustration at not being allowed to kiss him.

Dean’s mouth finds the edges of his gills and his tongue is warm and wet over the scales lining them. He murmurs encouragement into Castiel’s skin. His other hand mirrors Castiel’s, pressed into the bed on Castiel’s other side. He uses it for support as he leans forward and thrusts harder against Castiel’s penis. One of his fingers traces lightly over the head of Castiel’s slit and it forces another groan from him.

Castiel licks his lips again, waiting for the moment when he doesn’t taste blood. He wants to kiss Dean and even the heat burning under his skin and scales isn’t enough to distract him from that desire. They keep this rhythm for longer than Castiel cares to count, continuing the roll of hips and the slide of fingers until Castiel’s arm gives out.

He collapses against the pillows, hissing as his back-fans fold awkwardly. Dean lets him get comfortable before he leans forward and kisses him, not waiting for Castiel to catch his breath as he slides his tongue over his lips and teeth. He doesn’t get the chance to think that his lip must have healed before Castiel’s moan at the familiar, addicting taste, is muffed between them. Castiel digs his fingers into Dean’s hair to hold him in place.

 _(Look how long you’re holding out now, Cas. You’re gonna do great tomorrow.)_ Dean’s approval vibrates with his arousal and eagerness. _(I can’t wait to feel all of_ this – _all of you.)_ He drags one finger from the base of Castiel’s erection to the head, rubbing purposefully at all the sensitive spots that force a variety of noises from him. _(I want all your firsts, Cas, all of them.)_

Dean can have them. His firsts, his lasts, his everything. They’re already Dean’s and Castiel isn’t sure if he should say it or if Dean knows it by now. He floods the kin-connection with the warmth that smolders hotter in his chest than the heat of his arousal and he gives his agreement in every movement of his body, leaving Dean to hold their erections as he wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and pulls him tight against him.

This time Castiel recognizes the feeling that coils tight in his gut. He knows it’s going to happen before it does, starting at the ends of his fingers and the tip of his tail and burning hot through his veins and his bones before it reaches its intended location. If he kisses Dean through it, or presses his face to his skin, he’s sure that he’s going to bite and Castiel doesn’t want to hurt him. His head drops back, baring his throat and Dean immediately takes advantage, pressing his lips to his pulse point.

The sounds Castiel makes  should be shameful and embarrassing, but he doesn’t mind. He knows Dean enjoys them and he can feel the appreciation for them swelling under the warmth and arousal pulsing through Dean’s mind.  Castiel’s release is accompanied with a wordless cry as that all encompassing white that flares hot under his skin burns through his mind, buzzing over his side-fans and wiping out the world for a few moments. It’s the trembling of Dean’s shoulders under his hands that brings Castiel back,  little lights jumping in front of his eyes as he relaxes against the bed.

Dean slumps over him, a heavy weight against his chest and Castiel is momentarily confused. Why is Dean stopping too if he’s not done yet? He traces his fingers lightly down Dean’s spine, curving his tail up and over his back to hold him as much as he can. When he reaches through the kin-connection to touch his thoughts lightly, he finds Dean’s arousal is fading under a warm, pleased fog.

He drags concern against the haze. _(Dean?)_

A hum of acknowledgement vibrates against his gills and Dean sits back slowly. _(You and your goddamn sounds. Jesus, Cas. I could probably come just listening to you getting off.)_ His confusion must show on his face too, because Dean just smiles softly and kisses him, his fingers working to remove the condom before Castiel’s penis slides back into his sheath. To his surprise, Dean removes his own condom too, tying them both off and dropping them over the edge of the bed.

Dean stretches out next to him, pressed against Castiel’s side. He throws one leg over Castiel’s tail and his arm with the cast settles over his chest. Castiel tugs one of the blankets up and over Dean to keep him warm and Dean grins against his shoulder, murmuring a quiet thank you.

 _(You’re not going to sleep, are you?)_ Castiel turns onto his side and makes sure the blanket is covering all of Dean before he slides his arm around Dean’s waist and presses closer.

 _(Nah. Just enjoying the afterglow.)_ Dean grins, but his eyes are closed. _(I should probably put on some pants before we get comfortable, though.)_

Castiel hisses and curls closer, holding Dean firmly in place. _(Your clothes are annoying and useless when around me. You don’t need them.)_

He laughs and one of his arms finds its way under Castiel’s head, fingers digging into his hair. _(You’re just biased because you’re naked all the time.)_

_(I have no use for clothing.)_

_(Not even my sweater?)_ Dean’s fingers find their way behind his side-fan, stroking firmly in just the right spot that makes Castiel’s eyes slide closed and his a purr rumbles happily in his chest. _(Coz’ I think you looked really good in that. And I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.)_

 _(As long as it smells like you then I will concede to wearing it. It’s warm.)_ He nudges his nose against Dean’s neck, seeking out the heat of his body. _(And I like warmth and things that smell like you.)_

Dean laughs again, tilting his head to make room. _(Really? I never would have guessed.)_

Their conversation goes back and forth over little things that they like. For Dean, it’s mostly food. He praises the wonder of a dessert called ‘pie’ and laments that Castiel hasn’t had the chance to try it yet. Castiel is aware of how Dean doesn’t say anything about plans for Castiel to try some. He’s mentioned before about things he’d like to get Castiel to eat, but this time – now that they know they have a time limit together – he’s avoiding it. It makes pain twist through Castiel’s chest and his refrains from saying anything. Especially from saying that he wants to try all of Dean’s favourite foods.

A few times during their conversation, Dean pauses because there are messages from Sam or Meg. Castiel waits patiently, if not a little annoyed, during those moments. He wants to know more about the day after tomorrow, but Dean has shared with him all that he is willing to give on that matter.

It’s twenty minutes before Lilith is supposed to arrive that Dean finally gets up from the bed to get dressed and clean up the room again. He moves Castiel to one of the computer chairs where they both use the spray bottles on his tail and fans. Dean helps Castiel with the chains and the new collar, preceding each with the lines of kisses over his skin.

He’s pulling the table into place when the first knock comes at the door. Castiel breaks the kin-connection before Dean lets the guards in. They set up the chairs and place the silver-shells on the ledge, leaving as quickly as they arrived. Dean lifts Castiel from the computer chair to the ottoman and pushes both chairs into place at the table. Lilith doesn’t come in.

They wait for her for several minutes in silence, and the longer they wait, the more nervous Castiel becomes. Lilith has always been very punctual and he can’t think of any reason why she would be late now. So many ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ storm through his head and Castiel can’t ask Dean anything without the kin-connection. With no idea when Lilith will show up, he won’t risk making the link again until they’re certain she’s gone for the night.

Dean turns his chair so he’s facing Castiel and he sits with his cheek propped on one hand, drumming the table with the fingers of the other. He tries to give Castiel a comforting smile, but Castiel can read the tension in Dean’s shoulders and how his nerves are fraying with every passing minute. Castiel curls the end of his tail around Dean’s ankle again, steadying himself with that one small touch.

Neither of them are actually relieved when Lilith does come in much later than usual. She’s late enough that Castiel suspects the food might have gone cold under the silver-shells. Lilith doesn’t say anything as she sits in her special chair and it’s Alistair who shuts the door before taking his seat too. Neither of them are speaking and Lilith’s expression is hard.

Castiel’s fans and fins ruffle nervously. Is it something that he did? Or that Dean did? Does she know about the escape plan Meg has? Or about the kin-connection? It could be something else entirely that’s upset her and Castiel simply doesn’t _know_. The worry  settles heavy in his chest and it’s hard to breathe with how hard it squeezes  around his lungs.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Dean asks, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

He has no idea what Dean said, but Lilith’s eyes grow cold and Alistair only smirks. Castiel tightens his tail in warning, hoping Dean won’t say anything else that will upset her. She already looks unhappy, why would Dean do anything to incite her further?

“If I were you, Winchester, I’d keep your mouth shut and just get the food.” Alistair gestures towards the ledge and Dean glares at him before getting up and serving the bowls of soup under the first silver-shell.

The silence while they eat is more uncomfortable than any previous and Castiel can barely choke down a few spoonfuls of his chicken soup. Dean doesn’t seem to have any issue with eating and he looks at Castiel in confusion when he pushes his bowl away. Castiel shakes his head, glancing toward Lilith in explanation. She’s glaring at them both and her soup is barely touched either.

Dean tilts his head and gestures at her bowl with his spoon. “Not feeling well?”

Castiel’s tail tightens again, barely stopping himself from hissing at Dean to tell him to not speak with her when she clearly doesn’t want to be spoken to. Even Alistair isn’t saying anything, although he does keep looking back and forth between Lilith and Dean, amusement creasing his face unpleasantly.

Lilith glares at Dean for many long, silent moments before she looks at Castiel. He almost flinches at the hard look and he’s not sure if he should meet her eyes or look at the table. Everything that he is cries out to defy her for everything that she’s put him through, but the fear of the pendant hanging around her neck and the pain that it brings him – the pain that he doesn’t want Dean to ever have to see again – is louder than his training.

He looks at his hands and forces himself not to twitch in surprise when she speaks. “Castiel. Sing.”

The command is familiar and surprising. He hesitates, unsure of which song to choose this time. Lilith slams her hand on the table, making the bowls shake and some of her soup and Castiel’s splashes out. Both he and Dean cringe at the sudden noise and Castiel looks up sharply. She looks furious and her other hand is resting over the pendant.

“I said _sing_!”

Castiel recoils, his tail hitting the tail when he tries to fold it against his chest. He opens his mouth and sings – not caring what song it is as long as he doesn’t get the shock from the pendant again. The song that fills the air is one of the teaching songs sung to the hatchlings. It’s the song of the two-tails and their floating-reefs with the metal-hands. It’s the same song Castiel heard so many seasons ago as he was swimming away from the colony with his nest-brothers on their way to the light-beds.

Dean removes the dishes from the table while Castiel sings, only doing it at Lilith’s direction. She slowly lowers the hand from the pendant while he sings, but her expression is still hard and cold when the song ends. He watches her carefully, hugging the fold of his tail to his chest. Lilith gestures at Dean again and he serves the next course of their meal.

Something is very wrong and there is a tight lump sitting at the base of Castiel’s throat. Swallowing around it almost hurts and there’s no way that he can even think of eating – even if his dinner today is another pile of shelled clams. He pushes the plate away and continues watching Lilith. She does little more than pick at her food. It looks like their dinners are spaghetti and chicken again and Dean is eating his like there’s nothing wrong at the moment. Castiel truly admires his appetite.

If everything is okay and it just turns out that Lilith is in a bad mood, Castiel can eat the fish that are still swimming in small-sea. He’ll lament not eating the clams now, because he does miss having a more varied diet. But he can’t bring himself to touch the fork and his stomach turns at the thought of eating anything.

Alistair eats noisily and earns many disapproving looks from Lilith. Dean cleans off the table again and Lilith doesn’t even need to demand that Castiel sing. All it requires is one look and he immediately starts another of the teaching songs, one that the elders sing to the hatchlings to teach them about the rules of the colony. It’s nothing special and to Castiel it is actually boring, but Dean still stares at him with awe in his eyes.

When the song ends, Lilith leans back in her chair. She taps her fingers on the table and tilts her head as she looks between Castiel and Dean. It’s another long silence before she speaks again. “How long can he be without his mind link before it makes him go crazy?”

Dean looks both surprised and displeased with the question. He glances at Castiel and shrugs. “I have no idea. He never told me. A week, maybe? You’d have to ask him yourself.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

A bit of the colour drains from Dean’s face and Castiel’s stomach twists uncomfortably. “What’s that supposed to mean? You can’t just stop giving him the kin-connection! He needs it!”

“I want to see how long it takes before it starts affecting him. Since I’ll be the only one he’ll be connecting with once we’re home, if I go on vacation I’d like to know how long I can be gone before I’ll be putting him at risk.”

Dean stands, leaning heavily on the table. His voice is rising with every word and Castiel’s confusion and worry increases in time with it. “You can’t just torture him for that! Cas will tell you if you just fucking _ask_ him!”

“It’s not going to kill him and I’m sure I’ll have my answer before we reach Florida.” Lilith looks up at Dean steadily, her expression and her voice never wavering. “Unless there’s another reason why I shouldn’t do this experiment? Do you have an answer to that, Dean?”

He swallows thickly and sits down heavily. Dean’s eyes go dark and his fingers curl into fists on the table. “You know.”

Lilith’s upper lip draws back and she stands quickly, her chair tilting dangerously before it rights itself. Her voice is a quiet, deadly hiss and it makes Castiel’s fans flare. “Of course I know, you lying little _shit_. I may not know exactly how long you’ve been doing it, but I’m willing to bet that you’ve had the damn link since I gave you back to him. Am I wrong?”

Dean’s lips press into a thin line but he doesn’t look away. He doesn’t speak either and Castiel is getting more and more anxious. His fingers twitch where they’re resting over his scales. Lilith is mad at them. She’s mad and that means she’s going to use the pendant and there’s nothing he can do. If he tries to make the kin-connection with her without her permission, Lilith might think that he’s attacking her mind and use the pendant. Either way he’s going to be hurt and Dean is going to see it and _there’s nothing he can do_. Not when Lilith could have Sam, Jess, Bobby and Pam hurt before Dean could get to them too.

“Alistair.” Lilith gestures at him sharply, never taking her eyes off Dean.

He starts at the command and looks surprised for a moment before he pulls a black tube-like thing from one of his pockets. He holds it out and taps at it with his thumb. A crackling noise fills the silence and there are muffled noises that it takes several moments for Castiel to realize is the sound of kissing. Dean’s face flushes red at the quiet gasps and stifled moans that crackle through what must be a speaker that Alistair is holding.

Castiel stops breathing when Dean’s voice comes from the hand-speaker. His voice is rough, short of breath, and _familiar_. “Kin-connection, Cas. Make the damn link.”

Alistair taps his thumb again and the room goes quiet as he puts it away. Castiel first breath burns his throat and he stares at Alistair. Was the hand-speaker like Dean’s phone and the videos it can record? Dean said that he and Sam removed all the cameras and recording devices in the room. How could they have gotten a copy of Dean’s voice from that moment?

Worst of all, it means that Lilith knows. She knows that he’s had the kin-connection with Dean against her will. She knows that they’ve been lying to her. Lilith knows and Castiel is terrified. She might hurt Dean and take him away again. And they were so _close_! There’s only two more days until Meg’s escape plan and now they’ve messed it up and it’s all because Castiel couldn’t keep himself from making the kin-connection with Dean.

Dean’s lips are twitching and Castiel isn’t sure if he’s scared or angry. “How did you get that?”

“How do you think?” Lilith continues to speak in low hisses that send Castiel’s adipose fins rippling.

She reaches toward Castiel and he jerks away on reflex, nearly tipping right off of the ottoman if it isn’t for Dean’s quick hand on his shoulder. Lilith narrows her eyes at him and Castiel doesn’t move when she stretches her hand again. Her fingers brush the side of his neck before she tugs him forward by the collar until the edge of the table is pressed uncomfortably under his ribs.

“You put a transmitter in the collar?” Dean’s voice sounds stunned and his eyes are wide when Castiel glances at him. “But if he’d gone in the tank that would have –”

“It’s got a waterproof casing, you idiot. We wouldn’t have gotten anything while he was underwater, but that wasn’t what we were hoping to hear.” Alistair leans back in his chair and Castiel hates how smug he looks. He hates the dart-gun he pulls from inside his coat even more, especially when he aims it at Dean. “If you’re thinking of trying anything, don’t bother.”

Lilith jerks back on the collar, forcing Castiel to lean dangerously to one side. He isn’t sitting on the ottoman properly for this position and he slips from it with a crash, sending the ottoman toppling aside. The collar pulls tightly around his throat, rubbing harshly against his gills and Castiel struggles for his next breath. He scrabbles at her hand and the collar, his weight pulling against the collar and he can’t _breathe_.

She lets go and Castiel manages to gasp once before her foot connects with his shoulder. It’s not a painful kick, but it sends him falling back into the ledge and pain flares sharply at the back of his head where it connects with the hard edge. Lights dance in front of his eyes and the sudden burst of sound in the room makes his head hurt worse.

When he manages to blink the bouncing lights away, Castiel finds himself on his side. He pushes up slowly and looks around. The first concern that pushes it’s way to the forefront of his mind through the aching cloud filling his head is about Dean. Is he okay? Did he do something when Lilith threw Castiel down? He thinks – judging by what looks like the table and chairs overturned on the floor – that Dean _did_ do something.

“Dean?” Castiel sits up further, ignoring how his vision swims and the movement only makes his head hurt even more. “Dean okay?”

There are figures on the ground between Castiel and small-sea, but everything is so blurry. He squints and blinks and he realizes all he can hear is a ringing sound. It’s clearing up slowly, just like his vision, and Castiel can pick out grunts and shuffling. He can smell blood in the air, but it doesn’t smell like Dean’s. The figures solidify and Castiel is confused again, not sure if he’s seeing right.

Alistair is laying along small-sea, his nose is bloody again and he looks like he’s unconscious. Dean is kneeling over Lilith. There are red lines on his cheek and blood on Lilith’s chin. She has one hand pushing up under Dean’s jaw and he’s holding her wrist. Her other hand is firmly holding what must be the pendant, but Dean’s fingers are wrapped around hers. Castiel doesn’t know how the inner circle isn’t being pressed, but he’s happy it’s not.

“Cas, you okay?” Dean grunts, pulling Lilith’s hand away and slamming it down to the floor.

“Head hurt.” Castiel touches the sore spot at the back of his head, hissing at the sting.

Dean growls and leans further over Lilith. “Let the remote go, leave it with me, and you’ll walk out of here without another scratch. But if you hurt Cas with that fucking thing again, you won’t be walking out of here, period.”

Lilith looks uncertain before her upper lip curls. For a moment, she goes loose and limp under Dean, as if she’s given up and Castiel feels hope when the pendant falls from their combined grip to rest untouched on her chest. But Lilith’s sneer turns into a wide grin and she tilts his her head back. Castiel winces at the scream Dean doesn’t manage to silence before the guards burst through the door. There are more than Castiel knows should be there and he realizes, belatedly, that Lilith was prepared for this outcome.

Castiel snarls, his head spinning as he tries to drag himself between Dean in the guards. He can’t tell if the weapons they have are dart-guns or the deadly-guns, but he doesn’t want them anywhere near Dean. He knocks the legs out from under one of the guards with a well aimed swipe of his tail, but the others are well out of reach and they drag Dean off of Lilith.

Dean is kicking and shouting curse words at everyone. Every time he manages to pull one of his arms free, he gets at least one good punch in on the guards before they pin him again. One of them raises their weapon to point it at Dean and it doesn’t stop him from struggling. Castiel feels only a little relief. If Dean doesn’t submit to the weapon, then it must be a dart-gun and not a real one.

A few of the guards point their weapons at Castiel too and he hisses, flaring his fans and baring his teeth. They are between him and Dean now. He is so slow outside of the water and he doesn’t know what to _do_. There’s so many of them and he has no claws or weapons. All he has is his fangs and if they don’t get close enough he’ll never be able to hurt them.

Lilith steps closer to Dean and says something too softly for Castiel to hear. Dean goes very still. He’s red faced, panting, and staring at Lilith with wide eyes. His expression is one Castiel has seen many times before on others, but rarely on _Dean’s_ face. Castiel snarls again, his tail lashing across the floor and knocking the overturned ottoman and one of the chairs aside.

“No! Lilith, don’t!” Dean shouts, panic making his voice tremble.

Castiel glances away from the guards. Lilith has her hand on the pendant again and for one horrible moment Castiel sees her cruel smile, the blood on her lips making them more red than he’s ever seen. He meets Dean’s eyes and they’re full of concern and _fear_. It makes Castiel’s breath catch in his throat and his chest tightens painfully.

It’s nothing compared to the pain that sears through his head, through his mind and body and _everywhere_ when Lilith presses on the pendant. The pain spreads through his bones and into his lungs, stealing what little breath he has left. It takes his vision, his hearing, and all the control he has over himself. Castiel can’t even hear the ringing of his voice in the air as his throat works around a scream.

Lilith holds the pendant so long that the pain is all Castiel knows until the darkness takes him again.

 


	28. Breakout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he lets her live, she will return. She knows that Castiel comes from a place near the light-beds. Who knows what machines the humans have that will allow her to probe the deeps until she finds his colony? And what would she do to Dean? Would she have him hunted and punished for releasing Castiel? He can’t take the risk. Castiel has lived his whole life for his colony, for his nest-siblings, and he will _not_ let this fragile, floundering female threaten everyone he holds dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, riding-ponies-with-loki, mapalap, mischievousart, oodiously, pascalxwalker, , crzydemona, callipygiant, hydraarill, and opalithic.
> 
>  
> 
> _There were so many arts that I've decided to split them up again to save space. Anyone who submitted art in the last few days will have it included in the next update_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)!**
> 
>  
> 
> _OotD is going to back to once a week updates on Sundays. Dean's Drabbles will continue to update on Thursdays. March was a trial month to see if I could keep up with double updates and maybe if I didn't have Dean's Drabbles I would be able to, but I simply can't right now._

Before Castiel opens his eyes, he knows two things. The first is pain. It’s a burning ache that spreads through all his muscles and feels like it has settled in his bones. The second is that he is in fresher water than what small-sea held before dinner. His head hurts too much to focus on that thought and think about what it could mean. Every time he tries to concentrate on one thing, pain pulses in his temples and his whole head feels like it’s throbbing. The buzz of something vibrating through the water isn’t helping either.

Every breath through his gills hurts too. They don’t flutter as easily as they should and Castiel isn’t sure if it’s because of how Lilith had pulled the collar over them, or if it’s because she held the pendant for so long. He’s almost surprised that he can remember that. The memories of what happened after dinner are fuzzy. They feel like they’re from long ago, but he hopes it was only a few hours, or at most half a day.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes or move again. His adipose fins rustle on their own in the flow of the water and that should mean something too. Small-sea’s water was stagnant and without any currents. It takes much too long for him to realize that means he must not be in small-sea. But where else could he be?

If he can trust his memories, he thinks he remembers Dean saying that Alistair and Gordon were using the very-small-sea to build something for Castiel to stay in while travelling from the boat to Lilith’s home. He could confirm this if he would just open his eyes, but he doesn’t want to. A small chirp of his echolocation hurts his head immensely. The echoes return almost immediately and something tight presses behind his sternum at the realization of how small this new container is.

Carefully, he stretches his tail out. Every movement burns in his muscles and it’s a relief when the end of his tail curves against a glass-wall. It hurts more when he pushes against that, straightening his tail and back until his head touches the other end. The length is comparable to Dean’s bed and all Castiel can think is that he must be in very-small-sea.

Something loud ripples through the water and it’s not the clicking-pops of his echoes. Castiel winces at the repeating bang and how it swells through his head in aching waves. The noise doesn’t stop, continuing even after Castiel curls the end of his tail over his head and spreads his end-fans over his shoulders. He covers his side-fans with his hands and wishes that the sound would stop.

The familiar crackle of a speaker in the water is just as painful as the repeating bang and Castiel flinches from the wall the noise comes from. His head throbs with every word from the voice that muffles through the water and it takes several repetitions of his name for him to recognize the voice and the command behind it.

The lights are bright when he opens his eyes and he spreads his adipose-fins to block most of it out until his eyes have adjusted. He squints against it, trying to ignore how the light feels like it’s stabbing into his brain. Slowly, he moves his tail out of the way and he wishes he was surprised that Lilith is kneeling on the other side of the glass-wall in front of him, but he’s really not.

Lilith smiles softly, though Castiel knows it is nothing but deceiving. She doesn’t actually care, no matter how concerned she seems. She taps at the glass with her knuckles again and he twitches, hands still over his side-fans. He shakes his head and mouths ‘please’ and ‘stop’ at her. Lilith’s smile gets softer and she turns her hand, banging her first on the glass in a steady rhythm. Castiel hisses and clutches his head at the ache that pulses between his temples with the reverberations.

“Look at me, Castiel.” Lilith’s voice in the water is just as painful as the banging.

He looks up at her slowly, hands shaking over his side-fans. She puts aside what he assumes must be the microphone and taps at her forehead. Castiel is confused by the gesture for a moment before he realizes what she’s asking him to do. Her other hand is over the pendant again and he flinches away until his back is pressed hard against the glass-wall behind him. It’s hard to ignore the pain that blurs his concentration while he tries to place walls around his mind before he reaches for Lilith’s mind.

 _(Hello, Castiel.)_ She starts the moment the kin-connection is in place. _(How are you feeling?)_

Castiel winces at the barrage of her words and her images. She pushes insistently against the walls that protect him from her emotions or from letting her hear any of his thoughts beyond what he chooses to share with her.

Lilith presses through the kin-connection again, her touch against the walls nearly brutal. _(I asked, how are you feeling? Answer me, Castiel.)_

 _(I am sore.)_ He responds. He wants to ask about Dean and what happened, but he knows that Lilith doesn’t like it when he mentions Dean.

 _(That’s what happens when you lie to me.)_ Lilith’s smile turns dark and twists into a frown. _(Are you ever going to lie to me again, Castiel?)_

He shakes his head, cringing at the ache the movement sends through his temples. Every little movement hurts and Castiel just wants to close his eyes and go to sleep again. If he sleeps long enough, maybe when he wakes again it will be when Meg’s friends have made their move and he’ll be free not long after that. It means that he won’t get to be with Dean for his last day on the boat, but he’ll still be able to say goodbye afterward.

At least he hopes he’ll have that chance.

Someone steps up next to Lilith and he can hear the start-stop of their voice through the glass-wall. All he sees is everything up to their hips. There is a black cover over the top of very-small-sea and it hides anything taller than that. Castiel would be able to see who it was if he got closer to the other glass-wall, but he doesn’t want or need to. The deep rumbles of the voice tells him that it is a male, and from the colour of the skin on the only hand he can see, he can guess that it is Gordon.

Lilith stands up to speak with him and Castiel takes the time to look around. He has to move slowly, otherwise his whole head feels like it’s spinning and it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably if he turns to quickly.  Beyond very-small-sea is Lilith’s room that Dean called her ‘office’. He recognizes the extravagantly carved doors, the ‘desk’ and the plush sitting furniture.

Very-small-sea is pressed against one of the walls and Castiel is facing the couches. Dean is, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Alistair is sitting on one of the couches and the bruises on his face are worse than before. There’s no sign of any blood, so it’s hard for Castiel to judge how long it’s been since dinner. There are no clocks on the walls either.

The black cover over very-small-sea has two tubes that lower into the water. He has to sit up to reach the cover. It’s solid, warm, and vibrates, explaining the rumbling buzz in the water. When he lifts his tail toward the tube at the far end of the tank, there’s a pull in the water that drags his end-fans up toward the opening. The tube closer to his head is where the small current is coming from, bubbles and water getting pushed through.

This is a prison.

The male Castiel thinks might be Gordon walks away from very-small-sea and toward Alistair. He goes far enough that Castiel is satisfied with knowing that he was right. Unfortunately it means that he is alone with Lilith, Alistair and Gordon. At least he’s trapped inside very-small-sea and that means that they aren’t going to be cutting him any time soon – hopefully.

_(Castiel.)_

He flinches and folds his tail to his chest, tucking his arms between his scales and skin. He notes absently that the chains are gone. Gordon is giving Lilith a pillow from the couch and she places it on the floor before sitting. He returns to sit on the couch opposite from Alistair and Castiel notes that he looks drawn and tired.

 _(He’s still feeling a little under the weather from that time you hurt his head like you did to me.)_ Lilith gestures over her shoulder as she rearranges her skirt. _(You remember that, don’t you?)_

Castiel nods. That was the day that he had found out about the shock-tag. He hadn’t really been rushing at the time, but his grip on Alistair’s mind hadn’t been nearly as firm as it was on Gordon’s.

_(I’m surprised with you, Castiel. You haven’t asked about Dean yet. That’s not like you.)_

He ducks his head, watching her over the edges of his tail. There’s nothing he wants to ask more than whether or not Dean is okay and what Lilith has done with him. But he fears if he so much as says Dean’s name, Lilith will use the pendant on him to try and train him out of his concern for Dean.

Lilith is watching him steadily and her expression is oddly blank as she tilts her head. _(Don’t you want to know what happened? Don’t you want to know how he was punished for lying to me and leaving those hickeys on your back?)_

Castiel digs his fingers into his sides and tilts his face into his scales. He doesn’t like her questions any more than he does her knowing that Dean left marks on him. She probably saw them when they moved him here and that means Dean would have gotten into even more trouble instead of just for lying and attacking Lilith and Alistair. He sends a small plea to mother-sea, hoping that she will watch over Dean and keep him safe.

 _(Well? Aren’t you going to ask?)_ Lilith asks again.

Without lifting his face from his tail, Castiel shakes his head. He doesn’t want to play her games. All she wants is to see how upset he would be over whatever punishment she gave to Dean. Even though he really doesn’t like not knowing what happened to Dean, Castiel would rather not know. He hates Lilith and he wants to defy her in every way he can that will keep him from being hurt again.

His chest feels tight when he remembers that Dean was there. Dean saw Lilith press the pendant and he heard Castiel’s scream. At least they didn’t have the kin-connection at the time. If Dean had been forced to feel the phantoms of Castiel’s pain again, he would be far more upset than he currently is. Castiel had promised Dean – he’d _promised_ – that it wouldn’t happen again. He knows that he’d said ‘as long as he could help it’, but this was all avoidable.

If he had just listened to Lilith like he was supposed to, if he hadn’t used the kin-connection with Dean – none of this would have happened. But not having Dean’s mind is almost as bad as not having him at all. He’s not happy with just Dean’s body. He needs all of him. Having Dean with him, but not truly having him is almost as painful as the shock-tag. It’s a different kind of pain – one that Castiel can’t deal with as easily as he can physical pain.

_(You really don’t want to know? Don’t you care about him, Castiel?)_

_(Either you’re going to tell me or you’re not, no matter what I say. Tell me or leave me alone, I don’t care which.)_ Castiel lifts his head to stare at her blankly over his tail. _(You’ve separated us. No matter what I say or do, you’re not going to let me see him again. Why taunt me with his punishment when I might as well just start forgetting about him now?)_

There is some truth to his words and they curl in his chest, tightening around his heart. Castiel has no way of knowing if he’ll see Dean again. If the plan that he knows no details about does work, he’ll be in the ocean almost right away. He’s supposed to stay away until Dean and everyone is safe on the other boat. Then he’ll approach again and speak with Dean. If it’s not safe, he’ll have to find his way home on his own. If everything is okay, Pamela will find and remove the tags that Lilith placed under Castiel’s skin.

After that… after that he’s not sure what Dean plans to do. He knows that Dean wants to make sure that he gets home safely. Castiel can’t remember when Dean mentioned it, but he remembers Dean saying that a boat covers more distance than a fin-kin does. Maybe that means that Dean would like to take Castiel back to the light-beds himself? He would easily be able to find his way back to the colony from there and he wouldn’t run the risk of showing any humans where their home is.

In either case, he hopes the colony didn’t consider his disappearance a threat to their safety and migrated. Their trench is such a prosperous location that it is doubtful they would find a new home with so many resources that are less than a day’s swim away. Even though most of the council is composed of his nest-brothers, Castiel can’t really determine what they might decide to do when the colony’s safety is at stake.

If Metatron or Raphael make a decent argument, they might be able to convince his nest-brother’s that it’s best to move. But no one will know what happened to Castiel. Not even Uriel or Hester – the only two of his kin that he had been connected to at the time Sam shot him with the dart. He had lost consciousness before he had told them anything more than that there were two-tails nearby.

It hurts to think about how his nest-siblings likely have no idea what happened to him. Anna had been so close, not near enough for him to speak with her, but Hester’s team had been close enough that one of them might have been able to get the message to Anna about the two-tails. If she had started for him as soon as she’d heard, she might have arrived at the place Castiel had been stationed by the time the boat was moving away. 

Lilith frowns and Castiel keeps his stare impassive. _(You’ve taken all the fun out of this for me. I had hoped I’d be able to taunt you with that information a little longer. You really don’t want to know what I’ve done to him?)_ She tilts her head again and smiles. It’s cold and vicious and Castiel is reminded of a shark again. _(What if I had the guards beat him? He hit me, you know. If I wanted to, I could have ordered him killed for that.)_

Castiel has to force his fans not to flare at the comment. Lilith is watching him closely for his reactions and he won’t give her anything.

_(Anyone on this boat will do what I tell them to as long as I offer them the right amount of money. I thought I’d managed to hire a crew that would listen to my every order. I really misjudged Dean. He used to cheat people out of their money, did you know that? He’s not as nice as he’s tricked you into thinking.)_

His adipose fins ripple unhappily. _(You’re purposefully trying to get me to react. I am aware of what Dean has done in the past. He’s shared a great deal more with me than you likely know. And if you want me to forget Dean, continuing to speak to me about him is not the best course to take.)_

She frowns again and leans forward, her eyes narrowing. _(You’re not being very fun, Castiel.)_

It’s annoying to have to force himself to act like he’s given up. But he can’t let her know about the plan. If he shows even the slightest bit of hope, she’ll be tipped off to it. _(I’ve been taken from my home and my family. I have no freedom and I’ve lost Dean. Be happy I haven’t attempted to kill myself yet.)_

 _(Don’t you dare.)_ Lilith’s face grows dark and she slaps her hand on the glass. _(I forbid it!)_

_(That is the one thing you cannot take from me, Lilith. If I choose to end my own life, you will not be able to stop it. You can’t scare me or threaten me to keep it from happening. My death would be a release from you.)_

Her lips pull back to bare her teeth and she slaps the glass again. _(I may not be able threaten you, but I can threaten_ Dean _. Just because he’ll go back to his own life doesn’t mean I won’t be able to find him. I can have him watched constantly, Castiel. If you do anything to hurt yourself, all it will take is a single word from me and I could end Dean’s life with yours!)_

Even when he doesn’t have Dean, Lilith still uses him against him. Castiel’s head hurts too much to think further. He knows it’s not going to happen because of Meg’s plan, but he’s still not happy to hear how she would control him should they ever get to her home.  His reaction needs to be one that she would expect in this situation, but he’s tired and sore and he doesn’t want to act anymore.

Castiel struggles to push himself up. His arms still feel weak from his time against the glass-wall with Dean and they ache from Lilith’s pendant. He flares his fans and bares his fangs, hissing and trying to look as aggressive as he can while feeling as off as he does. Lilith sits back on her pillow, looking too smug for Castiel’s liking.

_(Let’s make a deal, Castiel. You don’t try and hurt yourself and I won’t kill Dean. Are we in agreement?)_

He hisses again. _(If you hurt Dean, I will_ end _you.)_

 _(Oh relax. Dean is fine.)_ Lilith waves her hand between them, almost dismissively. _(My rules haven’t changed much for him. The only difference is that he gets one meal a day until Florida. After that he and his friends will be discharged and can find their own way home while we take the plane.)_

For a moment, she looks over her shoulder and Castiel can see Alistair’s lips move. Her expression changes into something almost cunning when she looks at Castiel again. _(Oh yes, and I’ve taken away his communication privileges. He’s in solitary confinement – except for when he’s escorted to the washroom. Funny thing is, when I went to take his phone away, he threw it into the tank. You wouldn’t know anything about why he’d do that, would you?)_

He frowns, giving in to the shaking of his arms and sinking down to lay on his side again. _(I don’t understand. Is there some significance to his actions?)_

_(Phones don’t work in the water. It ruins them. His phone will never work again.)_

Castiel knows exactly why Dean did it. He had to hide all the messages from Meg and Sam concerning the escape. It also means that Dean likely lost all the pictures and the videos that he took and Castiel feels bad that he’ll no longer have those. He curls his tail up, tucking the end under his cheek as a pillow and he hugs his chest.

 _(No, I don’t know why he did it. I understand your machines even less than I understand you humans.)_ He shrugs, wincing at the ache between his shoulders. _(Perhaps he did it to spite you. He likes to do that.)_

Lilith scowls and Castiel closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see her anymore, keeping up his appearance of indifference. He’s moved too much and everything hurts more than it did when he woke up. He hopes he doesn’t get sick this time like he did the last. It’s a poor time to be sick and he doesn’t have three days to waste lost in a fever. If he’s sick during the escape, it will make things more difficult.

_(It’s late. Go to sleep, Castiel. In the morning, you’ll sing during breakfast. The rest of our trip will be very boring for you. But you and Dean brought this on yourself. If you had just followed my simple rules, you could have stayed with him for another week.)_

Castiel  ruffles his adipose fins and closes the kin-connection without another word. Lilith will just ask for it again in the morning and there’s little point in being linked with her while she sleeps. He doesn’t know if he’ll sleep, but he hopes that he will. His body is tired and his head hurts and he wants nothing more than to sleep away all the time that he’ll have nothing to do in here.

It doesn’t seem like he was unconscious for very long this time. Maybe only a few hours have passed. Castiel doesn’t know. He only opens his eyes again when he hears a lot of thumping. It’s easily recognizable as footsteps before he wants to see what is going on outside the tank. It’s nothing overly interesting. Alistair and Gordon are leaving the room through the extravagant doors. Lilith turns off the lights before she leaves through the plain door on the opposite side of the room.

He is left alone in the dark and his glow returns. Castiel runs his hand over the circles and dotted lines along the end of his tail. With how badly his head hurts, it’s not too hard to keep his mind blank. Every so often, the odd thought about Dean pops up and he has to force it away before the uncomfortably tight knot behind his sternum grows any larger.

It’s surprisingly easy to fall asleep when you’re not thinking about anything. When he wakes to the knocking on the glass, he’s not sure if he even dreamed. There are still aches in his limbs when he sits up and rubs at his eyes, but everything doesn’t hurt as badly as it did before. Castiel sits in one corner of small-sea under the tube that pushes a current into the water.

He hugs the fold of his tail to his chest and watches while Alistair sets up plates on the desk for him and Lilith. She waves Alistair away and he picks up a bucket from next to her desk, bringing it to very-small-sea. Castiel bares his teeth at him as he steps up next to the glass-wall. The bucket thumps on the cover and Castiel briefly wonders how Alistair will get the under the cover without completely removing it.

A square of light opens in the middle of very-small-sea under the dark space of the cover. Some water and a few fish fall in before the light closes off. Castiel ignores them as they dart about in the small space, choosing instead to focus on Lilith and Alistair as they sit down to eat their breakfast. Lilith looks up at him and taps her temple once. He frowns and hates following the order, but he makes the kin-connection with her once the walls around his mind are in place.

_(I want to hear that song you sang the day Dean’s arm was broken. The whole thing.)_

Something sharp twinges in his chest at the request and Castiel turns away, looking at the fish. He hasn’t eaten since lunch time yesterday and he can feel the hunger clawing at his stomach. But he doesn’t feel like eating and the thought of it makes a lump rise in his throat. He closes his eyes and pictures Dean, remembering the first time, the second time, and every time since that he sang the bonding-song to him.

Castiel does his best to sing the song as he would to Dean if he were here, but the notes sound sad in the waters of very-small-sea. Lilith doesn’t disapprove of the song and she leaves Castiel alone after he’s done. He spends the rest of the morning watching the fish and trying not to think about anything that will only make him upset.

The two and fro of the fish lulls him into a vacant state this is only interrupted by Lilith’s lunch and her request for another song. He sings about mother-sea and the gift of the glow she bestowed upon his colony.  Lilith leaves him alone again, the kin-connection quiet and slack between them, while she looks at papers spread all over her desk. She spends a lot of her time speaking on a phone.

He eats one of the fish, absently chewing the meat from the bones, while Lilith is pacing her office. She walks from one wall to the other, talking animatedly into a headset that isn’t connected to any speakers that Castiel can see. Sometimes during the conversation she looks angry, other times she looks very pleased. Many times she picks up papers from the desk and waves them around while she moves. It’s such a repetitive path that it’s nearly as calming to watch as the fish.

The afternoon drags on much longer than the morning. At one point, Castiel cuts the kin-connection completely and dozes. He naps straight until supper time when Lilith tells him, without the link, to sing. He hasn’t failed to notice, as Alistair and Lilith sit down to eat, that they haven’t given him any more fish than the few that were dumped in this morning. It’s not surprising that his meals have been reduced like Dean’s have.

Castiel sings another two songs during supper. The first is a teaching song for the hatchlings that explain the locations of several places around the colony’s trench and the landmarks to follow to reach them. The second song is one of mourning, sung for those who have been lost. For a brief moment, before he manages to switch his thoughts to something less depressing, Castiel wonders if his nest-siblings have sung this song for him as they line his sleep-shelf with stones and shells.

He eats another of the fish while Lilith lounges on one of the couches with a book. They don’t have the kin-connection at the moment and Castiel is a little curious about the book and what it is bout. Even if they did have the link, he wouldn’t ask Lilith about it. As bored as he is, Castiel would rather have the silence than the kin-connection with her. With how much that he blocks her out, they might as well not have it at all.

When she finally puts the book down, Lilith stifles a yawn. Castiel has done little more than stare at the two fish that remain and let his thoughts drift absently. She manages to get across with gestures alone that she wants him to sing a lullaby before she leaves goes to bed. She leaves when he’s done and Castiel watches the fish in the light of his glow when the lights go out.

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he dreams of steady-blue burned red. Of the tainted air that chokes him. He dreams of Dean and the fear he’d seen before Lilith had pressed the pendant. He dreams of the world described in Dean’s book. His sleep is agitated and troubled, and when Lilith wakes him in the morning he doesn’t feel rested.

Today is the day Meg’s plan is supposed to be put into action. He doesn’t know what time it will happen and anticipation thrums through his veins. His adipose fins ripple constantly and if he had the space he would be swimming in excited circles. He tries not to let the bubbles of hope take root in his chest because he doesn’t want to feel disappointed if nothing happens. Instead he focuses on trying not to look too excited.

He starts singing before Lilith has a chance to ask. This song is one of celebration and he sings it loud and vibrantly. She looks at him oddly while she eats and Castiel can only pray that she thinks he is acting differently because this is the second day that he’s been kept in very-small-sea. He stretches his tail as best he can in the small space and spreads his fans rapidly, preparing them for the open sea.

When her breakfast is done, Lilith dumps another four fish in through the opening in the center of the cover. She puts her head-set-phone on and starts her pacing while she talks. Castiel sits curled in the middle of his prison, watching her walk while he eats all the fish. He doesn’t know when his next meal might be and he doesn’t want to waste these.

His fingers twitch over his scales and it’s almost painful to hold still. He wastes the hours of the morning playing with the fish bones, arranging them in designs similar to the glow patterns of his nest-siblings. If he’s lucky, he’ll be seeing them again soon. The thought makes his chest feel tight, but not in the same way that it feels painful when he thinks that in the same time frame – likely less – he won’t be seeing Dean anymore.

He sings another song of celebration while Alistair and Lilith eat lunch. Even Alistair is looking at him strangely, but it may be because his voice is shaking slightly. He was less excited for his first hunt than he is now for Meg’s plan.

It’s only a few hours later, while Castiel is trying to copy his glow-pattern with the fish bones when something happens. He’s not sure what it is, but there is a sound like thunder and everything shakes. Very-small-sea slides away from the wall and if it wasn’t for the cover over top, he’s certain that a large amount of water would have sloshed over the edges.

Everything on Lilith’s desk, the tables and the walls is on the floor. Even Lilith is spread out on the ground. The water keeps splashing in the space between the cover and the surface. Castiel looks around wildly, concerned when the boat rocks again and very-small-sea slides back into the wall with a loud thud. Lilith can barely get to her feet and he can hear her screaming through the glass.

The room is tilting dangerously, but the furniture doesn’t move – much to Castiel’s relief. If it had, the couches would be sliding straight into very-small-sea. Lilith is having trouble getting to her feet and she kicks off her shoes with the pointed heels before she can manage to stand on her bare feet. She staggers to the extravagant doors but Alistair throws one open before she reaches them.

The tainted, hard to breathe air comes into the room through the opening, snaking over the ceiling. Lilith is shouting and she clutches at Alistair’s arm, gesturing back toward Castiel. He presses into one end of very-small-sea, his hand on the glass. He doesn’t need to fake his concern as he mouths Dean’s name. Castiel doesn’t know what happened or why the boat is tilting, but the fear on their faces makes him think that this isn’t a good thing.

Alistair tries pulling Lilith out the door and the fear changes to anger. She pulls away from him and gestures wildly back at Castiel, shaking her head and stomping her foot. They shout at each other for several long moments. Alistair face twists in frustration before he throws up his hands in defeat and pulls a dart-gun from inside his coat.

Castiel’s fans flare and he hisses, pushing away to curl in the far end of very-small-sea. If they make him sleep he won’t be able to help with the escape or swim away like Dean told him he should. He could attack Alistair’s mind to buy himself some time, but Lilith could use the pendant immediately and it doesn’t take too long for it to knock him out.

He’s almost in line with very-small-sea when the room’s wall ruptures. Everything is bright and noisy and Castiel hits the glass-wall as the entire prison gets knocked on its side. It feels like when he hit the ledge a few days ago. His head is ringing and everything is swirling in his vision. The air is dark and Castiel can see flickering yellows, oranges and reds. There’s a faint memory somewhere in his head about what those mean and it makes his adipose fins ripple in alarm.

One of the glass-walls of very-small-sea is under him now. Castiel tries to see through the dark that clouds the air. The first thing he sees is Alistair, lying face down on the floor not far from where Castiel’s prison is. He doesn’t know where the dart-gun went, but he can see the red blooming through the back of Alistair’s white coat and his wide, vacant eyes. Castiel does not feel remorse his passing.

There’s a scraping noise beneath him and Castiel flinches at the grating sound. The boat is still tipping dangerously and it doesn’t seem to matter that very-small-sea is no longer on wheels. His heart is beating hard in his chest and he slams his shoulder against the black cover. The air is too dark outside of very-small-sea and he can’t see further than Alistair’s body but he knows that very-small-sea is sliding toward the broken wall. What he _doesn’t_ know is what is on the other side of the wall.

The cover isn’t moving and the grating scrape of glass-wall on the floor is loud and it jars his side-fans. Castiel presses his tail against the bottom of very-small-sea and tries to use it as leverage. Through gaps in the dark-air he catches flashes of blue and his next breath catches. Is it steady-blue? Is it the sea? Is that what he’s slipping towards? What difference does it make if he’s still stuck instead this prison. He’ll sink into the deep trapped behind glass-walls so close to his freedom but not actually having it.

Panic squeezes tight in his chest and it’s getting hard to breathe. He doesn’t know what to do and he snarls in frustration, beating his tail against the walls and pounding his fists on all the surfaces he can reach. There’s a sharp crack above his head as he thrashes his tail and Castiel freezes, even as very-small-sea slides another little bit closer to the hole.

There are clusters of little lines in the glass-wall that is now his ceiling and more lines spreading out from it in twisting streaks. It hadn’t been there before the room-wall had burst inward. Castiel presses his back to the floor and rolls his body sharply to smack his tail against the center of the cluster. The cracking noise sounds again and the lines spread more as the cluster grows bigger. He hits it again and again and it keeps growing.

Every hit makes very-small-sea slide a little bit further through the tilt of the room and Castiel doesn’t care that it’s half a tail-length away. The sea is beyond the hole and as long as he can get out of this prison he’ll be more than happy to fall through it.

Something slams heavily into the end of the prison and it skids to the side away from the hole, moving toward the safety of the wall. Lilith has blood running down her face from her hairline and her clothing is torn in a few places. The dart-gun is in her hand and she looks furious. She is screaming and pushing very-small-sea further from the hole.

He snarls and slams his tail into the cluster of lines again, eliciting another satisfying crack. It can’t be much longer before it breaks. Lilith shouts again, her words muffled through the glass-wall. Her eyes are wild and her hair is clumped with blood. She bangs on the glass with the dart-gun and closes her other hand around the pendant.

The pain sears through his mind, stemming from the back of his head. It spreads down his spine to the end of his tail. His muscles burn and his vision clouds and Castiel knows he’s screaming but he can’t stop it because everything _hurts_.

And then it’s gone. There’s the remaining ache and the haze in his head that makes it hard to focus, but the pain isn’t shattering through his bones and stealing his breath anymore. Castiel slumps to the floor, his gills aching with every inhalation. It takes too long to gather his thoughts and his whole head pounds in time with his blood. He needs to keep hitting the glass on the cluster lines, but he can barely gather the energy to move.

He isn’t expecting one of the walls – but no, that’s not right that’s the black cover, not a wall – to fall away. The water sloshes across the floor and Castiel is left gasping as his lungs clear of water and his gills seal flat to his neck. He coughs and tries to push himself up to see what’s going on, to defend against Lilith if she tries to get him out, but his arms won’t hold him up and his head doesn’t feel right.

A hand wraps around his upper arm and Castiel growls, trying to pull away from the touch. He gets pulled from the empty very-small-sea and he struggles as much as he can, tail thrashing and teeth snapping. There’s so much _noise_. Crackling, popping, screeching, screams and loud pop-bangs. It’s overwhelming and Castiel’s head is already pounding. Castiel doesn’t stop struggling until a well known scent hits him and an all too familiar voice overcomes the pounding in his head.

“Cas, calm the fuck down! It’s me!”  

Castiel twists around, ignoring the tilt of the boat and the scraping slide of very-small-sea for the time being. Dean has the blue-sleeve on again and his guitar case is strapped to his back. There are new bruises on his face, blooming dark over the old ones that had been healing nicely during the last week. Castiel keens happily and leans into him. His arms are still sore and they feel heavy, but he manages to get them around Dean’s shoulders.  He presses his face to his neck and hugs him as tightly as he can.

Dean squeezes Castiel to his chest. He’s muttering sounds against Castiel’s side-fans and it takes several attempts before he manages to focus enough to establish the kin-connection between them. Warmth crashes through their link first, forcing the panic behind Castiel’s sternum to uncurl. Concern comes next, sweeping around Castiel’s mind as insistently as Dean’s fingers do over his body.

 _(You didn’t get hurt in the explosion, did you? Aside from what Lilith just did, you’re okay, right?)_ Dean leans back and holds his chin, tilting Castiel’s face from side to side. _(I can’t believe those dumbasses fucking torpedoed us. I’ll have Meg’s head for this.)_

 _(I’m fine, Dean.)_ Castiel lightly touches Dean’s new bruises while Dean undoes the collar, tossing it somewhere over his shoulders. _(They hurt you.)_

 _(Not as bad as I hurt them.)_ He pulls Castiel’s hand away and draws him forward into an insistent kiss. It’s messy and impatient, desperate and maybe just a little scared. Dean’s fingers press almost too harshly into the back of his neck and it ends as suddenly as it started. _(I’ve got to go get Pam. Meg and Jess are already on the other boat and Bobby and Sam are helping these ‘activists’ – Christ, they act more like pirates – keep the guards pinned. Everyone else is getting on the lifeboats.)_

There are so many thoughts and it hurts to receive them, but this could be one of the last times he gets to speak with Dean and he refuses to give this up. He’ll suffer through the dull throbbing in his head as long as he needs to. _(Are pirates bad?)_ Castiel looks up at him in confusion as Dean fumbles behind his back before withdrawing a bundled towel.

He shoves the rolled towel into Castiel’s arms. _(Yeah, Cas. Pirates are bad. You stay in my head, okay? Go far enough that no one can catch you, but you stay in my head until I tell you if they’re good people or not. You remember what to do in either case, right?)_

 _(Come back to remove the tags, or find my way home.)_ Castiel clutches the bundle tightly as Dean lifts him. _(What is this?)_

 _(Meg gave ‘em to me. They belong to you.)_ Dean staggers as the boat lurches again and he carefully walks around the remains of very-small-sea.

The dark-air has thinned considerable and Castiel doesn’t feel the tickle in his throat like he did the last time he had to breathe it. Dean is carrying him closer to the hole in the wall and there are patches of flickering red-orange-yellow along it’s edges. _(What happened to Lilith?)_

 _(I shoved her out. If a lifeboat hasn’t picked her up, then she’ll still be in the water.)_ Dean thoughts turn hard and cold, even as he stumbles again. _(I won’t hold it against you if you want to get revenge on her. If the blood in the water isn’t enough to draw some sharks, you’re welcome to bleed her a little more and leave her to them.)_

Castiel is a little surprised by the vindictive edge burning along Dean’s thoughts, but he can’t deny that he’s wanted vengeance from the moment he found out what Lilith’s true plans for him were. He sends his acknowledgment into the kin-connection and follows it with all the warmth that burns in his chest.

Dean stops as close to the edge of the hole as he dares and he hesitates. Castiel can feel it in the way he’s arms tighten under his tail and over his back. The kin-connection goes quiet and something twists painfully in Castiel’s chest. Dean is hiding his emotions from him during what could be one of their last moments together and it hurts. Castiel looks down at the bundle in his arms and he’s not sure what he should say.

He doesn’t want to say ‘goodbye’.

“Cas.” Dean mumbles and Castiel looks up at him so quickly is vision swims. Dean is looking down too, but he’s not looking at him. “Stay safe, okay?”

It’s not a goodbye. But it’s close. Castiel’s chest squeezes tight and he can feel a stinging behind his eyes. Dean kisses him again, nothing more than a quick press of their lips, and then Castiel is falling. He folds his fans tightly to his body before he hits the water and tries not to lose the bundle in his arms.

Fresh sea water floods his throat and flows through his gills. Despite the ache in his muscles, Castiel stretches his tail by swimming in excited circles, moving deeper with each rotation. When he finally stops, the water is dark around him but he can still see the surface and the two boats adjacent to each other. One is much smaller than the other and there are a few even smaller boats spreading away from the two.

Castiel can still feel Dean’s presence in his mind. His emotions are still hidden, but Castiel hides almost nothing from the kin-connection – especially his worry for Dean’s safety. The bigger boat – the one he must have been on – is listing heavily at one end. The place the helicopter blades had been before is gone. There is nothing but a hole of twisted metal. The boat is sinking and Castiel hopes that Dean and Pamela will get out together.

He can smell blood in the water and a few pulses of his echolocation tell him that there are no sharks nearby. Not yet at least. Castiel unwraps the bundle Dean gave him, watching the boats above and looking for Lilith. There’s so much debris in the water that it’s hard to locate the struggling form of one small female.

To Castiel’s delight, the items wrapped in the towel are his weapons. He lifts the familiar weight of his sword and slashes the water experimentally a few times. It’s just as he remembered and he’s inexplicably pleased to have them both back. His kelp belt isn’t there and that’s understandable, it would have rotted days ago. Castiel takes a moment to slice the towel into strips. He ties them together and uses those as a belt, tucking the dagger into it as he drifts back up towards the boats.

Castiel notices Lilith while he’s deciding whether or not to put his sword on the belt too. He’s not sure if Dean is paying attention to him in the kin-connection right now, but he sends out the thought anyway to let Dean know that he found her. Even though he does that, he won’t share with Dean what he plans to do to her. He  doesn’t exactly what he wants to do yet and he thinks about it as he swims toward her, his sword slipped into the belt too.

Lilith looks like she’s trying to make her way around the sinking boat to the smaller ones. Something dark, hateful and angry fills him. This is the female who ordered his capture, who stripped him of his home, his family, his freedom. She’s the one who beat him, tortured him, who ordered so much pain for both him and Dean alike.

If he lets her live, she will return. She knows that Castiel comes from a place near the light-beds. Who knows what machines the humans have that will allow her to probe the deeps until she finds his colony? And what would she do to Dean? Would she have him hunted and punished for releasing Castiel? He can’t take the risk. Castiel has lived his whole life for his colony, for his nest-siblings, and he will _not_ let this fragile, floundering female threaten everyone he holds dear.

Castiel approaches her from below. She starts thrashing the moment he drags her down with a hand around her ankle. He doesn’t go far, just a tail’s length beneath the surface. He wraps his tail around her legs, keeping her in place and holds her wrists in one hand as she tries to push him away. At first it’s fear on her face, but then she focuses on Castiel and her expression turns to one of rage. Bubbles stream from her nose and mouth and she struggles harder against his hold.

He could keep her here, so close to the surface but not letting her get any nearer and watch her choke on the sea. But it’s not nearly a satisfying enough ending for her. Castiel bares his fangs and leans in toward her neck. Lilith’s anger turns to terror and she screams, struggling harder. He fists his other hand in her hair and pulls at it sharply to bare her throat. But he doesn’t bite her. He bites the thin chain holding the pendant around her neck and he jerks back sharply. It snaps away and he spits it out, letting the pendant sink away to the deeps.

Lilith still twitches in a fruitless struggle, but the bubbles have thinned and Castiel knows she’s suffocating. If he doesn’t let her go soon, she’ll drown. A part of him wants to draw this out, to prolong her suffering for as long as she did his. If he was one of his nest-brothers, he likely would. Castiel keeps his hold on her wrists and uncurls from around her legs. She fights briefly, but her lips are starting to turn blue and her movements are jerky and uncoordinated.

Castiel dives. He drags Lilith with him until his glow shines brightly and lights the way. He takes her as deep as he can before the kin-connection with Dean becomes strained and threatens to give way to distance. There’s blood coming from Lilith’s mouth, her ears and her nose. Castiel leaves her there, drifting in the dark. If sharks don’t come soon, then undoubtedly some fish will be attracted to the scent of fresh food.

He returns to the boats to find the one that has been his prison for the last few rotations is half underwater. There is more distance between it and the other boat now, and many of the lifeboats are much farther away. Castiel follows the kin-connection. It grows stronger the closer he gets to the new boat. The more clear the kin-connection becomes, the worse Castiel feels. Dean’s emotions are strained, still mostly hidden from him, but he is upset – devastated.

 _(Dean?)_ He reaches through their link to touch his thoughts with concern. _(What’s wrong?)_

It takes a moment before Dean responds. He seizes at Castiel through the kin-connection, dropping the walls around his mind. Castiel offers all the comfort that he can to the broken thoughts that fill their link. He tries to take a moment to sort through them and find out what’s wrong, but his own head still aches and everything is a mess between them.

He swims in tight circles beneath the boat, far enough that he could dive well out of reach of any weapon should a human drop into the water to try and shoot him again. The hum of this boat’s helicopter blades is a constant disruption in the water and Castiel follows with his lazy loops as it moves away from the now quickly sinking boat, heading back the way the prison-boat had come.

Castiel continues to touch at Dean’s mind with his curiosity and his worry until Dean finally answers in images rather than words. It’s difficult to decipher, since Castiel never saw that part of Lilith’s boat, but when he understands, any joy that he had felt over his escape fades dramatically.

Lilith’s office and her bedroom had been located above the room Pamela stayed in. And Pamela’s room had been at the back of the boat above the area with the helicopter blades. Castiel pulses apologies and his empathy. He has lost friends before too and he knows how much it hurts. Although it must be worse for Dean. His relationship with Pamela had been much closer than any friendship Castiel has ever had and he hates that he feels a twinge of jealousy over what Dean had with Pamela. It’s inappropriate to feel like that now.

He doesn’t know how long he follows the boat, or even if they are going in the right direction. But he doesn’t complain. Dean and his family are mourning the loss of their friend and Castiel is reveling in his freedom and the feel of the open ocean. There are no glass-walls again and it’s refreshing to have the clicking-chirps of his echoes take longer to return to him.

Sometimes Dean will check to make sure he’s okay and Castiel will respond with images of great schools of fish that he catches glimpses of, or simply the grand open emptiness of the sea. He still feels regret over Pamela’s death, and it dampens his spirits every time he thinks of it, but he doesn’t stay saddened for long. He is free and it is _wonderful_.

Bright-pearl has nearly disappeared over the horizon when the boat comes to a stop. Dean sends him an image of the back of the boat and the flat shelf that sticks out of it – much like the Lilith’s boat did. _(Come to the swim deck, Cas. These guys are okay.)_

 _(How do you know?)_ Castiel lowers his glow and swims closer to the boat, close enough to see Dean sitting with his legs crossed, alone on the flat shelf of the ‘swim deck’.

 _(Well for one, the guy captaining this tub is someone I know from prison. I nearly pissed myself when I ran into him on Lilith’s ship. He’s a good guy and just got a bum rap like I did.)_ Dean sticks one hand into the water and Castiel comes up from below to touch his fingers lightly. He smiles at the surprise that startles through the kin-connection.

 _(Sam and Bobby hoarded some weapons from our breakout and if anyone here tries anything we’ll be able to hold our own. And nobody’s demanding that you come onboard. You can stay in the water most of the way, if you want.)_ Dean wiggles his fingers and grins down at him when Castiel peeks above the waves.

Castiel is confused. He sends that into the kin-connection while raising further out of the water. He coughs the water from his lungs and tilts his head as he looks up at Dean. _(What do you mean?)_

Dean mirrors his confusion and raises his eyebrows. _(We’re taking you home, Cas. It’ll be faster if we go by boat, but you can swim as much of the way as you want. Nobody is going to force you into a tank or anything again. We don’t even have one onboard.)_

Warmth pulses hard in his chest and flutters along his ribs. Castiel’s fans flare in surprise and he reaches out of the water for Dean slowly. _(Does that mean – how long will it take to get back?)_

 _(Barely a week and a half. We’re going to be stopping once to refuel and resupply when we hit Africa, then we’ll head south to the islands.)_ Dean grins again and helps pull Castiel up onto the swim-deck.

If Dean plans to accompany him all the way back to the light-beds, it means he has more time with Dean and he fills the kin-connection with his joy.  Dean’s jeans get soaked by the water dripping from Castiel’s tail, but Dean doesn’t say anything about it. Castiel settles in the cradle made by the fold of Dean’s legs and he curls his tail around Dean’s hips, a purr rumbling deep in his chest.

Dean smiles again, but his eyes are sad and Castiel isn’t sure if it’s because of Pamela, or if there is another reason. He leans into him, resting their foreheads together and brushing concern against his thoughts. It’s several quiet minutes before Dean says anything more.

 _(I miss Pam.)_ He slides his arms around Castiel’s back, pinning his fans. More silence fills the kin-connection before Dean shakes his head and forces a new subject. _(We nabbed the portable x-ray before we abandoned ship, so we can still check the tags. We don’t have a vet to help out, but Meg has autopsied her fair share of animals before – as creepy as that is. If you’re okay with it, she could try to get the shocker out.)_

Dean’s thoughts continue, flowing from one into the next as if he’s trying to distract himself from what he first said. _(It really shouldn’t matter because we’re who knows how far from the remote control. What happened to Lilith anyway? Did you get her? Is she gone? I hope you got her good. She was more monster than she was human and I know that’s a shit thing to say but I can’t help it.)_

Castiel tilts his chin and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s mouth. He may not be speaking with his throat voice, but the action is enough to silence him. Dean’s arms tighten and Castiel kisses him again at the corner of his lips.

 _(The pendant is lost to the deep and so is Lilith. She will never use her influence to hurt anyone again.)_ His arms settle around Dean’s shoulders and he hugs him tightly. _(And you have no need to worry about thoughts like that, Dean. She has likely hurt more people than we know and for what she did to you, for what she did to me – she deserved the end she received.)_

He only hesitates slight before continuing. _(Pamela did not.)_

Dean flinches at the thought and his fingers press into his back. Castiel shushes anything he might say, covering the kin-connection with a blanket of comfort. He gives Dean no warning before he starts to sing.

It is the same song he sang during Lilith’s dinner the day before, but this time he sings it with a purpose. He sings the song of mourning for Pamela, for a human. It is the first time this has happened in any history that he knows.

Dean’s arms grow tighter with every verse and he pushes his face against Castiel’s neck, his cheek pressed over his gills. Castiel continues to sing even when Sam, Jess and Bobby come up to the railing that separates the swim-deck from the rest of the boat. He doesn’t stop when new people step up too, even though so many new faces makes his stomach twist with anxiety. When the song finally ends, nobody moves and nobody speaks and it’s a long moment of silence that follows.

Dean pulls back eventually and his smile reaches his eyes this time. _(Thanks, Cas. Pam would have really loved that.)_ He kisses him softly and grins when he leans away again. _(We’ve got a bit of an audience, huh? I should make some introductions.)_

Castiel nods and Dean twists around to look behind him. He gestures at an unshaved man wearing a flat hat that sticks out over his face somewhat like Bobby’s baseball hat does.  “That’s Benny. He’s the guy I told you about. Benny, this is Castiel – Cas.”

Benny puts his fingers to the edge of his hat and tips it forward slightly with a nod. “Pleasure to finally meet your mermaid, brother.”

He speaks with a different pronunciation than Castiel has heard before and it makes his adipose fins ripple, curiosity pulsing into the kin-connection as Dean translates the words. Castiel doesn’t fully understand why Benny is calling Dean his brother when they are not related.

 _(I’ll explain later.)_ Dean brushes the questions aside and points at another man standing not too far behind Benny. He is also unshaven and he holds a short glass filled with amber liquid. He is dressed in black clothing similar to what Alistair wore during the first dinner Castiel ever had with Lilith. Dean makes a scornful sound at the comparison. _(It’s called a ‘suit’, Cas. He’s wearing a suit.)_

“And he’s Crowley.”


	29. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel settles next to Dean, leaning heavily into his side and all but forcing Dean to put his arm around his shoulders if he wants to stay comfortable. Warmth slips into the kin-connection, stemming from behind the walls around Dean’s mind and it coils around Castiel’s thoughts. He flips his tail over Dean’s legs, curling the end around one of his ankles. His cheek rests against Dean’s shoulder and a gentle purr rumbles in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, say0ran-arts, pappcave, teatimeart, luciffeels, thelittlearchangelthatcould, wings-andgrace, and glu10morgen.
> 
>  
> 
> _I split the fanart. If you've submitted in the last week and your art isn't here, then it'll be in next week's chapter!_
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’re on Tumblr and if you follow me, I’m doing an[OotD giveaway](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/45178127815/so-ive-got-all-this-merchandise-just-sitting-here)! It ends Friday April 12 at 12pm CST!**

Castiel curls around his sword, his back pressed against the rock. It’s quiet, too quiet. He’s too far away to be able maintain the kin-connection with Dean and there is nothing but the silence of the deep surrounding him now. The little cave he had found makes a decent place to sleep, but it’s not nearly as comfortable as the bed he’s slept on with Dean.

It had been a hard decision to chose to stay in the ocean during his first night of freedom. He had wanted to stay with Dean, to tuck against his heat and hold him through his sorrow at the loss of his friend, Pamela. But Castiel was loath to spend another night on a boat, especially now that he has a choice. He isn’t forced to stay locked in a room or trapped in a tank. Castiel is free to come and go from this new boat as he pleases.

The other people had left not long after the introductions earlier and Castiel had sat with Dean and Jess, Sam and Bobby out on the swim-deck of the boat, watching as the last light of day faded. Sam had explained the pinpoints of light in the sky as stars and Jess had shown him how the brightest ones could be connected to form things she calls ‘constellations’. Bobby had left for a little bit, but brought back late suppers for everyone. Castiel had tried some of Dean’s sandwich and everyone had eaten in silence until Meg showed up with the suggestion that they all get some rest.

Dean had asked Castiel, his thoughts oddly tense, what he wanted to do. If he wanted to go further onto the boat and join them in their room, or if would find a place to sleep in the ocean. Apparently Dean now shares the same room with the others. There are four beds for five people. Jess and Sam are to share one, and Meg will be sleeping in the bed above theirs. Bobby will sleep in the bed above Dean’s, and Dean said that no one minds if Castiel shares his bed.

But the boat is filled with so many new people and Dean, so far, only trusts the ones that he knows and Benny. He begrudgingly trusts Meg and he said that he trusts Crowley about as far as he can throw him – which is an expression Castiel finds odd. But what if the humans lock the door and keep all of them trapped in the room? If they do that, someone could change the course of the boat and take Castiel to a whole new place. Even though Castiel trusts this small handful of people, he doesn’t know if he could ever trust anyone else. They could all be like Lilith and Alistair were. He never wants to take that risk.

When Castiel had said that he would like to spend the night in the sea, Dean said he understood. He had even smiled, though his eyes were sad and something dark flitted along the edges of his mind before he had raised the walls that hid the majority of his emotions from Castiel. Dean had turned very quiet and barely even acknowledged when Sam and the others left after saying goodnight.

Castiel and Dean had stayed on the swim-deck until Dean had started to shiver from the cool world-breath and the water. The waves made the shelf they were sitting on dip often into the water and Dean’s pants were soaked almost constantly. It was Castiel who suggested that Dean go inside to change his clothes and sleep.

His chest aches slightly remembering the look Dean had given him. He hadn’t frowned exactly, but his eyes had been tight and sad. His emotions were hidden the whole time and Castiel still doesn’t know or understand why. They had kissed – a soft brush of lips – before Dean stood up. He had pushed his fingers through Castiel’s hair, a lingering touch that felt as sad as he looked and told him to be back at the boat in the morning.

He hadn’t even asked where Castiel would sleep. The whole exchange had left a sour taste in Castiel’s mouth and he’d wanted to call Dean back, to ask him what was wrong. But Dean had severed the kin-connection before the door that led further into the boat was even closed. Castiel had waited for a few minutes, to see if he would return. When Dean didn’t, Castiel slipped off the swim-deck and swam in lazy circles under the boat trying to focus on finding a place to sleep instead of thinking about Dean.

Now Castiel is too worried to sleep. Is Dean acting differently now because his friend is dead? Or is he upset because Castiel has his freedom and soon they won’t be together anymore? Maybe it’s because Castiel decided to sleep in the ocean tonight instead of staying with him? There are too many questions in his head and there is no one around to answer them.

Castiel thinks about returning to the surface and probing the minds onboard the ship until he finds Dean’s. But what if Dean is already sleeping? He could probably still tell the difference between Dean’s sleep-thoughts and someone else, but he doesn’t want to wake Dean just because Castiel wants to ask questions he might not want to answer.

If he could get his brain to shut off, Castiel could simply wait until morning to find out. But every time he manages to force those repeating thoughts to go quiet, another just gets louder. He could swim, in circles around the rocks he’d found to sleep amongst. Or he could hunt, using his glow to attract prey and finishing them quickly. But if he’s going to be swimming all day for many days, he needs his rest.

Castiel wants to spend as little time on this new boat as he can. It makes his insides twist to think about being surrounded by so many walls again. He prefers the open sea. And he has no way of knowing if these new people really do want to help him get home – he has no intention of showing anyone, not even Dean, where his colony is – or if they want to hurt and own him the same way Lilith did.

There’s so many if’s and maybe’s that it’s making Castiel’s head spin.

At some point he must sleep. He wakes with a start and nearly hits his head on the roof of the tiny cave he had found. For several long moments he is disoriented, waking to a darkness lit only by his glow with nothing but rocky outcroppings and various fish returning in his echoes. Before he remembers what and why and how, worry spirals through him and a barrage of concerned questions about Dean fill his head.

He slides out into the open ocean and takes a deep breath through his gills, breathing the clean, fresh salt sea. It replaces the worry in his chest with joy. Castiel stretches luxuriously over the rocks before he tucks his sword into the towel-belt he still wears and swims in wide circles. He doesn’t know the exact time – he never did before Dean taught him how to read a clock - but he knows that bright-pearl has risen. That means that Dean will be awake and the boat is waiting for him.

Castiel catches a few fish on his way to the surface, eating them as he swims. He goes straight up until he sees the dark shape of the boat against the bright blue beyond the surface. His hunt for a sleeping area had moved him further away from the boat than he expected and Castiel adjusts his course, angling toward the boat. The long chain that connects to the hook that keeps the boat in place is still extended into the deeps. He had followed it when they lowered it last night and his search for a place to sleep had spiraled out from that starting point.

Without breaking the waves, Castiel can already see Dean waiting for him. He’s pacing along the railing that separates the swim-deck from the rest of the boat, stopping at either side to look out across the water. Castiel can’t determine his expression from this distance, but his movements seem agitated. When Castiel touches his mind, establishing the kin-connection, there is nothing but relief.

 _(You’re late.)_ Dean’s thoughts tease along the edges of the kin-connection. _(Have you eaten yet?)_

 _(I have.)_ Castiel breaks the surface, keeping his gills underwater as he floats just out of reach from the swim-deck. _(What are the plans for today?)_

Dean looks more tired than Castiel has ever seen him, looking like he hasn’t slept properly in days. He crosses his arms over the railing and leans on them. _(We’re going to raise anchor in a few minutes and keep going toward Africa. We should reach there in a few days, then we’ll spend a couple days refueling and getting more supplies before we head south to the islands where we found you. That’ll be another couple days. All in all, a week and a half – maybe less. Depends on the weather. Longer if we stop every night so you can find a place to sleep down there.)_

By the time he’s finished talking, the walls are up around his emotions again and Dean is looking out over the water instead of at him. _(Benny would rather we keep going every night, since we’ll get to our destination sooner. But I told him you don’t want to come on board and we all understand that.)_

 _(If I’m only slowing your return to your own home, Dean, you can just show me the direction I need to go and I can return on my own once we’ve removed the chip.)_ He can’t look at Dean while he makes the suggestion and Castiel dips his mouth under the water to distract himself. It hurts to say it. He doesn’t want to leave Dean any sooner than he has to and he hopes Dean doesn’t agree with him.

Surprise flares through the kin-connection and there’s a curl of sadness that quickly disappears behind the walls around Dean’s emotions. _(It’s up to you, Cas. You’re the one that’s going to have to make the trip. We were going pretty slow yesterday so you could keep up without tiring yourself out or anything. But you’d cover more ground – so to speak – and get home sooner if you rode with us, y’know?)_

Castiel ducks his head and his adipose fins roll to keep him floating. _(Do you trust these people?)_

 _(I trust Benny. And we’re not in the same situation like we were on Lilith’s boat. We’ve got weapons and you’re not going to be put in a tank or anything.)_ Dean opens the door in the railing and steps out onto the swim-deck. He’s barefoot and wearing the short-pants he wears when swimming under his sleeve-less shirt. _(Nobody is going to collar you, chain you up, or try and control you here, Cas. I won’t let them. I know my promises haven’t meant shit so far, but I swear I won’t let anyone do that to you again.)_

He swims closer to the platform, closer to Dean. _(You did keep your promise. I’ve got my freedom and I’m going home.)_

 _(Yeah, and I told you that I’d keep you safe but Lilith hurt you more times than I want to count. Alistair cut off pieces of you and they fucking_ tortured _you almost right up to the very end.)_ Anger leaks into the kin-connection and Dean slams the small door. He sits down heavily with his back to the railing and draws his knees to his chest, glaring off to one side.

 _(Dean, that’s nothing for you to be upset over anymore. It’s finished. Lilith and Alistair are both dead and you’ve achieved what really mattered.)_ Castiel swims close enough to place his arms on the swim-deck. He pushes his appreciation and the warmth that flows through his chest into the kin-connection. _(We’ve been over this before. You had your family to worry about. If you acted out, they would have been harmed. If I acted out, you would have been harmed. But none of that matters because it’s_ done _now.)_

Dean still stares sulkily out over the water and he doesn’t move until Castiel starts trying to pull himself up onto the swim-deck. He moves to help him and Castiel coughs the water from his lungs, curling his fingers in Dean’s outer shirt. There are people moving around the deck now, coming out of the door to go up the stairs or walking around on the higher deck. Some of them stop to look at Castiel and Dean, but they don’t stay long and continue on their way.

Castiel settles next to Dean, leaning heavily into his side and all but forcing Dean to put his arm around his shoulders if he wants to stay comfortable. Warmth slips into the kin-connection, stemming from behind the walls around Dean’s mind and it coils around Castiel’s thoughts. He flips his tail over Dean’s legs, curling the end around one of his ankles. His cheek rests against Dean’s shoulder and a gentle purr rumbles in his chest.

 _(How’d you sleep?)_ Dean asks after several quiet minutes. _(Did you find a safe spot?)_

He shows Dean the memory of the small cave, barely more than a shelf with an outcropping of rock above it. _(It took me a while, but I did sleep. And you?)_

_(Barely. I haven’t slept properly since our last dinner with Lilith.  Too much to think about. Not to mention that Bobby snores like a freight train.)_

_(I don’t know what a ‘freight train’ is.)_

_(Something really fucking loud, Cas. Don’t any of your brothers snore?)_ Amusement twists around his words and Dean makes a grating noise in his throat as an example.

Castiel nearly laughs at the sound. _(I think Michael and Gabriel do. I haven’t shared a sleep-shelf with them for many seasons, not since before we became adults. So I’m not sure if they still do.)_

Dean’s soft laugh makes his shoulder shake under Castiel’s cheek and he squeezes him tighter. _(You should ask them when you get home.)_

 _(I’ll try to remember to do so.)_ Castiel presses closer, curling his tail tighter around his leg.

As excited as he is to finally get to return home, he simply can’t feel happy about it. He wants to stay with Dean, but he wants to be with his family too. Except he can’t have both. Not without asking Dean for more than he could ever bring himself to ask. Castiel is afraid of the answer to that question, and especially of knowing how Dean feels about this – can he even call it a relationship?

Now that they’re not trapped in the same room, now that Dean has his freedom as much as Castiel does, will he even want to be with him? Dean seems fine sitting like this, but does he still want to kiss? Or touch? Did they merely have an agreement, an extension of the kissing trial, for as long as they were in that room? Or can he still be with Dean as they were, only here? It’ll be harder because Castiel doesn’t want to go any further onto this new boat than where they are now.

It’s not exactly hurting his head to think about all of this, but it does make parts of him ache. Every new thought makes something twinge in his chest. Specifically in the spot behind his ribs where his heart beats.

His fans flare at the sound of approaching footsteps and when Castiel twists to look over his shoulder, Dean does too. Benny is walking towards them. This morning he is wearing black circles over his eyes and Castiel pulses curiosity into the kin-connection until Dean explains that they are called ‘sunglasses’ and they make it easier to see when bright-pearl is bright.

 _(Speaking of, you shouldn’t be out in the sun a whole lot. You’re pretty pale and I doubt you’ve gotten much sun in your lifetime.)_ Dean glances at him and he rubs his thumb over his shoulder. _(I don’t want you to get a burn or anything. Hell, even a tan probably wouldn’t be very healthy for you. And I’m sure as shit not rubbing all that sunscreen chemical crap on you. God knows what that would do to you.)_

_(You’re speaking in riddles again.)_

Dean shrugs, giving him a small grin before looking up at Benny. “Hey, what’s up?”

Benny tips his hat like he did yesterday evening and mumbles a quiet ‘good morning’ in his different pronunciation. “We’re going to be raising anchor soon. Just wanted to know if I can put her into full gear today or if your mermaid is going to be swimming again so I should be taking her slower?”

“Fin-kin.” Castiel speaks before Dean does and surprise flickers through the kin-connection, much the same as the surprise on Benny’s face – though it’s harder to tell with the sunglasses covering his eyes. “Not ‘mermaid’. Castiel fin-kin.”

Dean snorts and squeezes his shoulders. “Yeah, Cas doesn’t much like it when you call him the m-word. We kinda talk in images and when I first called him a mermaid, I may or may not have imagined Ariel from the Little Mermaid. He didn’t like it much.”

“Has he seen the movie?”

“Couldn’t do much TV watching in confinement. If you’ve got a copy on board, I’d pay to borrow it just to see his reaction.”

Castiel squeezes his tail around Dean’s legs, a low growl in his throat. _(Dean. Don’t make fun of me.)_

 _(I’m not. Only teasing. Slightly.)_ Dean laughs again and jiggles his shoulders. Castiel huffs and shoves at his him, fingers drawing over his sides in a light touch that makes Dean laugh more and shuffle away. _(Sorry, sorry. Well, have you got an answer for Benny? If you stay on board we could do the x-rays this morning. Meg and Jess know how to work it and they can hook it up to a computer to view the scans. We can have that chip out of you by this afternoon if you’re okay with that.)_

Castiel shifts slightly, looking through the rails toward the ship and the door that leads deeper. The deck on the other side of the railings is not much higher than the platform. And there are stairs on the right side that lead up. _(Do I have to go inside?)_

Dean holds his hand up to Benny with his index finger raised, but he is looking at Castiel. _(Not if you don’t want to. I can see if we can set up some shade back here and we can do the x-rays right over there. The only time you’d have to go inside is for Meg to take the chips out. You’ll be down for that, so you won’t be all panicky and you can go right back into the water when you wake up.)_

His fans snap wide and he narrows his eyes at Dean. _(You never said I would have to sleep!)_

 _(We’re going to have to put you under to cut it out, Cas. You can’t be awake for it – especially not if she’s going to be cutting into the back of your neck like that. It’s a sensitive area and if you even twitch the wrong way, something could get fucked up and badly.)_ Dean sits back, his smile slipping. _(I guess I didn’t mention it before because I thought it was common knowledge and I kinda forgot that your common knowledge isn’t the same as mine.)_

He draws away, uncurling his tail from Dean’s legs and folding it to his chest. _(I don’t want to sleep here.)_

 _(I guess that answers what we’re doing at night.)_ Dean’s smile falls away completely and the walls get tighter around his mind, hiding more and more from him. He looks out at the rolling waves again as he runs a hand through his hair.“We’re going to be dropping anchor every night, Benny. Cas doesn’t want to come on any further than this. Go for full for as long as you can right now. I’ll come tell you when Cas is going back in the water.”

“We’ll burn our fuel quicker if we keep doing that, brother.” Benny sighs and Castiel shuffles his fans unhappily at the sound. “Tell – Cas, is it? – tell him he’s going to have to make up his mind. We need to pick a speed and stay with it.”

Another growl rumbles in Castiel’s throat and he hugs his tail tighter. Dean promises Benny that they’ll talk and Benny leaves. They sit in silence for a few moments before Castiel hears a grating noise that Dean explains is the anchor – the hook on a chain – being raised. The engines rumble to life somewhere in the boat and Dean grabs the railing with one hand, the other flails out and presses over Castiel’s chest when the boat starts forward, keeping Castiel from lurching off the swim-deck. It drops away as soon as they steady themselves.

They rumble of the engines is the only sound between them for awhile before Castiel finally speaks. _(I don’t trust humans, Dean.)_

_(I’m human.)_

_(You’re different.)_ Castiel sends more warmth into the kin-connection, but the link is still void of Dean’s emotions and it’s starting to make him nervous. Is Dean angry at him now because he doesn’t want to go further onto the boat? Or because he doesn’t want to be forced into the unnatural sleep again?

Dean sits with his knees bent to his chest, his arms resting over them. _(We have weapons, Cas. Actual guns. We can do the operation in the room closest to outside and Bobby and Sam can stand watch. I can be in the room with you and Jess will help Meg. She’s done a few dissections in her time, nothing big but it’s still more than Sammy or me.)_

Castiel rests his chin on his scales. _(I don’t like being forced to sleep. Or being stuck behind walls while I have my freedom.)_

 _(I know, Cas. I know.)_ Dean shifts, his shoulder bumping Castiel’s. _(It’ll only be for a little bit. As soon as you wake up and we make sure you’re okay, I’ll chuck you overboard again and you can swim to your heart’s content.)_

He leans a little more into Dean’s side. _(Can you swim with me?)_

 _(I would if I could, but there’s no diving equipment on board. No air tanks or anything. I wouldn’t be able to go deep or stay under for more than a minute.)_ Disappointment twists around Dean’s thoughts and he shakes his head. _(This isn’t a research ship, Cas. It’s got less than half the crew than Lilith’s boat did. It’s half the size too – in case you didn’t notice. The only reason they had room for me and the others is because not everyone came back after the raid on Lilith’s boat.)_

_(I’m sorry to hear that. I don’t like that lives were lost to get me my freedom. Did you know them too?)_

_(Nah, but Benny did. He said they were good guys.)_ Dean leans back into him and tilts his head to catch his eye. _(I’m better prepared than I was before, Cas. Nothing’s going to happen to you here.)_

Castiel hums, basking in the determination that pulses into the kin-connection. Bright-pearl is rising higher from the horizon and the glare off the water makes him wince and squint. Dean makes a quite ticking noise and stands, holding onto the railing as the boat dips with the waves.

 _(C’mon, let’s get you out of the sun. There’s some shade from the upper deck back by the wall and you can sit under that while I see about putting up something to keep the sun off you while we take the x-rays.)_ He opens the door in the railing and gestures at it.

It takes a lot of pushing with his tail and a bit of lifting on Dean’s part to get over the rise between the deck and the platform they had been sitting on. Castiel slides across the floor into the left most corner away from the stairs. _(Would it be easier if we did it inside?)_

 _(It sure as hell would be.)_ Dean shuts the railings and crosses to the door in the wall. _(But after what you went through on that other crap heap, I’m honestly surprised that you’re willing to come this far onto the boat. Just a sec.)_

He opens the door and leans through. Castiel winces at his shout. “Sammy! Jess! Bring some blankets, get the machine and get Meg and Bobby!”

“Could you shout any louder? Jesus, Dean!” Sam’s voice comes back, distant but still loud. “What do you need blankets for?”

“To keep Cas out of the sun. If he gets burned, I’ll have your hide!”

 _(Dean.)_ Castiel uncurls and push-drags himself closer to where he’s standing.

 _(Just a minute, Cas.)_ Dean flaps his hand at him and keeps shouting down the hall. “We need the extra bodies to hold the blankets to give us some shade! If Bobby’s not up yet, then wake his damn ass!”

“Stop yer yelling, ya idjit. The whole damn boat is gonna be awake now.” Bobby’s voice echoes down the hall too.

Castiel pulls at the end of Dean’s short-pants to get his attention. _(Dean, I’ll go inside. You said we can be close to this door with Bobby and Sam guarding us.)_ He doesn’t want everyone to have to go through so much effort just because of him.

“Put the brakes on that, guys! Just a second.” Dean crouches next to him, concern breaking over the walls around his mind. _(You sure about that, Cas? If you’re not going to be comfortable with it –)_

 _(I trust you. And you trust Sam and Bobby. They have weapons and we will be closer to the outside than we were on Lilith’s boat. It is a different situation and I can be comfortable with it if I need to be. The easier it is for this to happen, the sooner it will be finished.)_ He nods as if to reassure himself and glances down the hallway. It looks like it runs the length of the boat and there are many doors on either side. _(Is the nearest door already someone else’s room?)_

 _(Yeah. We’ll commandeer it for the time being. If need be, I can ask Benny if we can switch bunks and take that one.)_ Dean touches Castiel’s side-fan, gently ghosting his fingers over the spines and webbing. _(But I should really only do that if you want to be on here afterward too. I know you said that you want to spend as much time in the sea as you can, but we really will get you home faster if we can keep going throughout the night.)_

Castiel leans into Dean’s hand, the first properly intimate touch Dean’s given him since – since too long. _(I’ll think about it. For now, let’s get the x-rays over with. I dislike those as much as I do everything else.)_

A small smile twitches at the corner of Dean’s lips and he presses a lingering kiss to Castiel’s forehead. _(I know you do. It’ll just be a few minutes getting the room set up and moving the equipment. Do you mind waiting out here?)_

_(Will you be going far?)_

_(Just down the hall. If you sit here, you’ll be able to see me the whole time.)_

Castiel contemplates it for a moment. _(If you kiss me properly, then yes. I will wait here.)_ He sits up straighter, adipose fins rustling with anticipation. Dean hasn’t kissed him once this morning and their kiss last night was barely a kiss at all.

Dean looks startled and his hand drops down to cup the side of Castiel’s neck. Worry starts knotting behind his sternum when Dean’s eyes drop to his lips but he doesn’t move. Was it too presumptuous of him to ask for that now that they’re in a different situation than before? Maybe Dean doesn’t want to do that anymore. Maybe the gentle touch to his side-fan and the kiss to his forehead was simply Dean being affectionate like he had been before they had become like… like how Castiel wants to be again.

 _(You still want to –)_ Dean stops, licks his lips and glances up again.

The walls slip just a little more and something curious, something hopeful, slides through the kin-connection. Warmth curls around the edges and Dean leans in without further preamble. Castiel doesn’t even have a chance to be confused by the shift in Dean’s emotions. He pushes up into the kiss, gripping Dean’s shoulders to keep him from moving. One hand finds the back of Dean’s head and he can feel a smile against his lips.

“Well, what are we doing – oh!” Jess interrupts, her voice ending on a squeak.

Castiel tries to pull away because that’s what Dean always does when someone else shows up, but Dean follows. He keeps Castiel firmly in place with the hand on his neck. The other one lifts from his shoulder and Castiel has no idea what he does with it, but Dean is licking into his mouth, possessive, insistent and very much _there_. He digs his fingers into Dean’s hair, stifling a surprised noise against his lips.

When he finally stands up, Dean is grinning widely. Satisfaction and warmth thrums steadily through the kin-connection and Castiel ducks his head to try and hide the flush he knows has risen in his cheeks. Even his breathing is erratic. Such a kiss shouldn’t have been able to do that, but the emotions behind it had stolen his breath.

Jess is still standing in the doorway, her back turned.

“Can you keep Cas company for a few minutes?” He pats her on the arm and some amusement filters into the kin-connection. “I’m going to get Benny and ask about a room switch – just in case Cas decides to spend a night on the boat.”

Dean quickly explains what the plans are, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair the whole time he speaks with him. Castiel presses his forehead to the side of Dean’s leg, trying to even out his breathing. After the brief information exchange, Jess leans against the door frame to get out of the way for Dean to go down the hall. Castiel sees him stop at one of the doors halfway down and he flares his side-fans to try and catch his conversation with Sam. It’s too short for him to hear anything and Dean continues down the hall, going up some stairs at the far end and disappearing from sight.

The kin-connection remains strong nonetheless, a background noise in his head as Castiel creates the link with Jess. They talk a bit about what happened yesterday, and Jess explains how they got out. According to her, Meg sent a message shortly before the first hit to the boat came. Dean didn’t get the message because his phone had been at the bottom of small-sea, but he had still gotten out of his room just fine with his indispensible things packed in his guitar case.

All the guards had left their stations in front of the rooms when the boat started being under attack. Jess tells Castiel about how easy it was to get to the deck – they had met Dean in the stairwell with Meg and Bobby – and by then the people of the other boat were already boarding. Sam had insisted that Jess go to the new boat with Meg, promising that he’d come back with everyone else.

He had, sort of. Jess had been very upset to hear about Pam. A sympathetic pain twinges in Castiel’s chest when she tells him Dean had either been crying, or was very close to tears when he had come onto the new boat. He had another bag with him and he and Sam were carrying the x-ray machine. Jess explains that the bag he had was the one Pam had packed for coming to the new boat. It’s full of things she would have used to help take the chip out of Castiel’s neck.

 _(She was really prepared to help take care of you.)_ Jess slides down the wall to sit next to him, regret curdling her thoughts. _(I never really got to know her very well. I mean, we were friends, but we weren’t very close. I kind of wish I’d taken the time to get to know her better.)_

Castiel twitches the end of his tail forward to brush against the side of her leg. He has nothing but his sympathies to offer and Jess accepts what little comfort those are. Dean comes back down the stairs next to where Castiel and Jess are sitting not long after that. He has Benny with him.

“Good news! Benny says we can switch rooms.”He steps over Castiel’s tail and Jess’s legs.

Benny follows him, tipping his hat again with another pleasant greeting. Castiel dips his head in acknowledgement. He stops at the first door to Castiel’s left. Jess gets up and follows Dean at his quick call over his shoulder. They both head back to their room to get Sam and Bobby.

 _(Where is Meg? I would like to thank her for arranging our escape.)_ Castiel touches Dean’s thoughts while he watches Benny converse with someone in the room Dean wants to take. They don’t sound happy, but Benny’s voice sounds stern and he gestures down the hall toward the room where Dean is standing in the doorway, looking back toward Castiel.

He shrugs. _(I think she might be meeting with Crowley. She told us last night that she’s actually always been working for him and she was kind of a spy in Lilith’s company.)_

Castiel’s fans flare at that and caution curls tight under his ribs. _(Why did Crowley need a spy for Lilith?)_

 _(To stop her from doing shit like this, like what she did to you. That’s what Meg said, at least.)_ Someone hands Dean his guitar case and he slings it over his back. _(I don’t know if we can trust her on her word about that, but it’s all we’ve got to go on at the moment. Sure as shit doesn’t mean I’m going to put any trust in Crowley.)_

He shifts uncomfortably, fisting his fingers over the scales of his lap. _(Is Crowley to the people on this boat as Lilith was to the other?)_

 _(Seems like. But from what Benny says, he mostly keeps to himself. He’s got the captain’s suite up on the top deck and Benny slums it down here with the rest of us.)_ Dean accepts a few more items before coming back up the hall. Sam and Jess come too, Bobby bringing up the rear.

They stand out on the deck while they wait for the men in the other room to move over. Dean stands behind Castiel, a hand in his hair as Castiel leans against his legs. The world-breath still pushes against them and bright-pearl’s light is eating at the shade. It’s not too long before the room is cleared. Jess gets to go in first and Bobby follows. Sam goes in after him and Castiel waits while Dean puts his things in the room before he comes out to carry him in.

Benny spends the entire time leaning against a wall, watching everything quietly. When Dean lifts Castiel with one arm under the swell of his tail and the other around his waist, Castiel sees over Dean’s head – propped up on Dean’s shoulders by his forearms – that Benny is smothering a smile under his hand. Castiel isn’t certain if Benny is amused with how Dean is carrying him, or if it’s just the fact that Dean is carrying him at all. It’s hard to tell without a kin-connection, let alone that his eyes are still hidden behind the dark covers of his sunglasses.

This new room is much smaller than any of the ones Castiel has been in previously. There are four beds – two against each wall and one above the other. They are recessed into the walls like little caves. The walls at the end of the beds have drawers and at the end of the bed next to the drawers are built in tiered-platforms. There are spaces under the bottom beds and Dean’s guitar case is already under the bed on the right.

Bobby is stretched out on his back on the top bed to the right while Sam and Jess are sitting with their legs cross, hunched over on the bottom bed to the left. There are a few bags on the bed above them and Castiel thinks that might be where Meg will sleep.

 _(Watch your head.)_ Dean warns as he dips forward suddenly. Castiel scrabbles at his back to keep from falling, clinging to his shoulders tightly. Laughter reverberates under his arms and through the chest pressed against his own. _(Dude, it’s okay. I’m not going to drop you.)_

Dean puts his tail on the bed and Castiel slowly lets go, noticing belatedly that he’s fully under Bobby’s bed and there is nothing but the mattress beneath him. Castiel props himself up on his elbows as Dean sits on the edge of the bed and he curls his tail around his hips, end-fans flaring over his lap.

 _(These beds are much more smaller than the last.)_ Castiel observes to both Dean and Jess and she makes the comment out loud.

Sam snorts and twists on the bed, wedging himself in the small space behind Jess. The bed is too short for him and he can’t stretch properly. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

Castiel is closer to the edge of the bed than he is its center and if he flares his back-fans, the tips brush the wall. There’s barely enough room for Dean and his usual sprawl when he sleeps on his own, let alone having the space for both him _and_ Castiel. Also, the bed is just a little too short for Dean. He is just slightly taller than it is long.

Those are just more reasons for Castiel to spend his nights in the deeps. Not to mention that he has to wake up at least once a night to spray down his scales and fans. Dean said he doesn’t mind waking to help, but now that the room will be shared with four other people Castiel doesn’t want to inadvertently wake them as well.

The space between the sets of beds isn’t even two widths of the bed. They would probably be able to fit one more bed between them with a little wiggle room. But that would be it. It is a very cramped space with too many people and Castiel doesn’t like it. His adipose fins rustle the more he thinks about it and Dean strokes the end of his tail reassuringly, fingers pressing along the seam where the webbing connects to his scales.

Benny leans in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and his ankles crossed. “So what are you doing today, brother?”

Dean shrugs, absently running his hand over Castiel’s end-fans. “We’ve got some things that we have to do with Cas. It’ll take us all morning, at least.”

“Speaking of –” Jess leans forward on the bed to see around the drawers. “We need a computer – or a laptop with a USB drive. Do you know where we can get one?”

“I wouldn’t doubt that Meg has one in her effects.” Benny nods toward the bed above her and the bags on it. “Though you should ask her before sifting through it. Crowley’s meetings don’t often deviate, so she shouldn’t be too much longer. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you need one for?”

Dean pats Castiel’s tail. “X-rays. We gotta make sure that Lilith’s douche brigade didn’t stick anymore tracking chips in him than they already have.”

“Ah, that’s a shame.” Benny steps back and looks down the hall. “Here comes Meg. I better get back to work. Come find me when you’re done, brother. It would be nice to catch up.”

“Yeah, of course.” Dean waves as Benny disappears around the wall to be replaced by Meg a few moments later. He looks at her critically, wariness rolling along the edges of his mind. “Oh good, you’re here. Got any good or bad news for us?”

Meg glances around the room once before looking at Castiel and then at Dean. “No news is good news. Crowley just wanted the full report about everything that went down with Lilith. He’s been checking the news broadcasts and there’s no word about a mermaid, but the survivors of Lilith’s ship are claiming they were attacked by pirates.”

“Yeah, robbing them blind before they got on the lifeboats sure didn’t give them that impression.” Bobby’s voice comes mumbled from the bed above and Dean makes a snorting sound at his words.

 _(See? Told you they were acting like pirates.)_ He tilts a lopsided grin toward Castiel before looking back at Meg.

She continues to speak as she climbs the tiered-platform to the bed above Jess and Sam. “The news reports say that Lilith is missing and that she might have gone down with the ship. They’re still looking though.” Meg doesn’t climb up all the way, only far enough for her to reach one of the bags. She steps back down with it and removes a thick rectangle from the bag, passing it to Jess immediately.

“Lilith dead.” Castiel says frankly.

The room goes very quiet and Meg turns to look at him slowly. Castiel shuffles his fans, unbothered by their stares and glances at Dean. _(You didn’t tell them?)_

 _(Didn’t really have the chance.)_ Dean rubs the back of his neck uneasily. _(None of us have ever killed anyone before. It’s kinda a difficult topic to bring up, especially when it’s about someone we all knew.)_

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, if you didn’t figure that out – Cas killed Lilith. She won’t be coming after us any time soon. And I saw Alistair in her office. I think he got taken down when they – what was that, a fucking rocket launcher? Who the hell uses a _rocket launcher_?” He shakes his head and rubs at his chin with one hand. “And before any of you judge Cas for what he did, I’m the one who shoved Lilith off the ship in the first place and I encouraged him to have some revenge. So if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

_(No, you’re not. The actions were entirely my own.)_

_(Cas –)_

“Dean not blame.” Castiel pushes himself up until he can sit on the fold of his tail, sitting close to Dean’s side. “Castiel kill Lilith. No Dean help.”

“Oh please, you two are so sweet on each other it’s giving me cavities.” Meg rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose. “Nobody cares who did what as long as the bitch won’t bother us again. There’s a million other species out there that are safe from her now and all the animals she has as pets currently will get transferred to zoos or released back into the wild. You did the world a favour, in my humble opinion.”

Castiel nods and leans into Dean’s side. _(See. It’s not so bad.)_

 _(I didn’t say it was. It’s just that murder – in revenge or not – is kinda a big no-no in our society. What’s it like for you?)_ Dean shakes his head and shrugs.

 _(Unless we’re at war, to kill another fin-kin is frowned upon. It’s even worse to kill a colony-kin. Gabriel would likely give a particularly bad punishment – possibly even give them a term exile. If they survived, they might be allowed back into the colony. It’s very rare for one to kill a colony-kin.)_ Castiel explains, trying to remember if there was ever a death in the colony like that. He can’t recall any.

Meg recruits Dean to get the x-ray machine from where they stored it before Dean can really say anything else on the matter. The kin-connection lays quiet between them, contemplation rolling like waves back and forth through Dean’s head.

Sam shifts onto his side, his legs tucked up against Jess. The bed above Castiel creaks as Bobby moves too. The end of Castiel’s tail twitches over the edge of the bed and he watches the door, waiting for Dean to return. He’s not sure what to think about Dean’s sudden change in disposition from the sadness of last night and how closed off he had been not more than an hour ago.

Castiel doesn’t know if he should attribute it to Pamela’s death – a topic he notices that no one seems willing to talk about – or if there’s something else. There is, often, parts of Dean that he doesn’t understand. He loves all the sides to him, but when Dean hides things and doesn’t explain why or what he’s feeling, Castiel doesn’t know what to do. His nest-siblings were always rather forthright and these are whole new waters for Castiel – both literally and figuratively.

By the time Meg and Dean return, Sam is close to dozing off.

“C’mon, Sammy. You’ll have to be on your toes with Bobby until we’re done.” Dean says the moment he comes back into the room. He is carrying a few of the thick grey clothes that Alistair and Gordon had been wearing the day Castiel’s first x-rays had been taken. Meg stays in the hall with the machine for the moment.

Bobby grumbles and complains quite a bit as he gets down from the top bed and unpacks a few guns from the bags stored under Sam and Jess’s bed. He and Sam hide the guns under their clothing and change places with Meg and the machine, shutting the door as soon as she is in the room. There is very little space now on the floor and Dean has to sit with Jess on her bed for Meg to push the machine into place and adjust the height so that it fights under the bed above Castiel.

“Okay, you’ve got your English to Atlantean dictionary going there, Winchester?” Meg takes one of the grey clothes and puts it on over her front. “He going to understand what I’m explaining to him?”

Castiel nods in place of Dean as he translates it for him. “Yes.”

Meg starts slightly, clearly not having expected him to answer. A light sense of _smug_ fills the kin-connection and Dean is practically beaming at Castiel as he puts the grey clothes over his front too. Jess passes him the thick rectangle Meg had given her and he puts it under the clothes. She stands too and puts on the last of the grey clothes before squeezing close to Castiel’s bed.

 _(Lay on your side, Castiel, please.)_ Jess asks and she folds the pillow under his head when he moves.

The knot of the towel belt is still damp and Meg curses several times when her fingers slip while trying to undo it. Castiel’s removes his sword and the dagger, using the small knife to cut away the towel. He isn’t attached to it and he’s sure that he can find something else to make a belt with. Now that he has access to the ocean again, he could easily harvest some kelp for his belt. Meg throws the towel on the floor and Jess puts the weapons under the bed.

Dean translates all of Meg’s requests and watches from the other side of the room. He presses soothing calm over Castiel’s thoughts as Jess and Meg have him roll over a few times while they move the machine down his body like Alistair and Gordon once did. Castiel closes his eyes and sinks into Dean’s serene thoughts, distracting himself from the memories of the last time this happened to him.

When they’re done, Jess removes something from the machine and takes the thick rectangle from Dean. He collects the grey clothes and takes them out of the room, pushing the machine ahead of him. Sam and Bobby agree, although with grumbles, to take it back to storage. Meg and Jess settle on Jess’s bed, grouped around the thick rectangle that folds open.

“Meg.” Castiel props himself up on his elbows again and she looks up at him, eyebrow raised. He dips his head. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Meg help. Thank you.”

She looks confused until Dean explains and then she waves her hand. “Yeah, well. It needed to be done. You don’t have to thank me for that.” Meg smiles, the softest he’s seen from her.

Jess nudges her shoulder and her attention turns back to the folded-open rectangle. Castiel sends curiosity into the kin-connection wrapped around an image of it, asking Dean silently what it is.

 _(It’s a laptop. A smaller kind of computer.)_ Dean explains offhandedly as he sits on the edge of the bed again.

Almost out of habit Castiel immediately wraps his tail around Dean’s waist. He likes being close to Dean, to be touching him in some way. Dean doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he likes it too and he always leans into the touch.

This time Dean moves Castiel’s tail and stretches out as much as he can on the bed. He turns his back to the room and gestures for Castiel to roll over, requesting with silent images in the kin-connection for how he wants him to lay. As soon as Castiel is facing the wall, Dean wraps an arm around his stomach and presses his face against the back of his neck, pulling him flush to his chest and pinning Castiel’s back-fans flat.

 _(Dean?)_ Castiel pulses confusion into the kin-connection even as he flips his tail back over Dean’s legs.

“I’m tired.” Dean mumbles against his skin, stifling a yawn before he presses a few sleepy kisses to the top of Castiel’s spine. “I told you I haven’t slept well the last few nights. Just lemme have a nap until you want to go back to the water or until those two have figured out what to do to get the chip out.”

Castiel lifts his head so Dean’s other arm can worm under the pillow. It doesn’t take very long before Dean drifts off to sleep. His breathing evens out quickly, nothing but hot puffs against Castiel’s shoulder. It’s steady enough to start lulling him into an almost sleepy state.

Here, with his back warmed by Dean and Dean’s arm secure around his waist, Castiel is more comfortable than he was while sleeping in the deep last night. Castiel listens to Jess and Meg speak quietly to each other, their voices a background noise where the words blend together. He’s only vaguely aware of when Sam and Bobby return.

The door shuts and everyone is speaking in soft tones, but by then Castiel’s eyes feel too heavy to keep open. He doesn’t even open them or move when someone pulls a blanket over the both of them. It’s around then that he cuts the kin-connection with Jess and turns over to face Dean. Sleepy grumbles ruffle the hair curled over his forehead. Castiel tries not to move too much as he wiggles until his arms are tucked in the warmth between them.

He can swim later. There will be plenty of time for that when he gets home. Right now he doesn’t have very long left with Dean and he should spend as much of his time with him as he can. Even if that means that he’ll have to be on this strange boat and surrounded by new people. At least while he is here no one will try and cage him, or own him, or refuse him the sea again – for now.

Castiel makes a note to remind himself to talk to Dean about how he should split his time between the ocean and the boat. For right now, he’s more than happy to lose himself to a proper sleep while Dean is radiating heat and snuffling softly against his hairline. Dean’s even breaths and the beat of his heart under his hand lull Castiel to sleep faster than the currents of the deep ever have.


	30. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _(I don’t know.)_ Castiel places his dagger on the ledge behind him and reaches out to run his hands through Dean’s hair, to cradle the back of his neck and pull him close. _(I want to stay with you, Dean. I want to stay with you while we’re together. I don’t like being away from the sea when I have my freedom, but I hate being away from you more than that. Especially when we have so little time left.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: sweetnessarose, paprikapainter, gahyouresoawesome, speight-brigade, reinedescanards, ronithebear, hydraarill, cyrusbarr0ne, hellolovedoves, themadnessswithin, 
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up now. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

The skin of Dean’s jaw is rough under his tongue. Castiel’s doesn’t mind the catch-drag of the stubble. Dean grumbles and twists, pressing his face into the pillow and forcing Castiel to turn his attention to the stretch of skin just under his ear. It’s soft and thin and he’s left with the choice of paying attention to Dean’s ear, or following the raised tendon in his neck to his shoulder.

There are two shirts and part of a blanket covering Dean’s shoulder and it would take more work to get to the smooth skin underneath than Castiel currently wants to give. Whereas his ear is right there and Dean’s breathing hitches, muffled by the pillow, when Castiel licks along the soft shell and gently worries at the fleshy bottom with his teeth. When he dips his tongue into the hollow of his ear, little sleepy noises sound in the back of Dean’s throat and he pushes up into the press of Castiel’s mouth.

He drags his thoughts against the sleep fog suffusing Dean’s mind. It’s fading, but slowly. Dean is still asleep and Castiel wants him awake. The room is empty and he doesn’t know how long they’ll get to be alone before Sam – or Jess, or Meg, or Bobby, or maybe even Benny – will interrupt. There are much better things they could be doing right now instead of sleeping.

The lingering remnants of the dream that Castiel had before he woke up is not helping. The muscles of his sheath are twitching almost painfully and Castiel knows that he is hard within it. He refuses to allow himself to unsheathe until Dean is awake to enjoy it with him. His scales feel damp under the blanket. Someone must have sprayed him down while he was sleeping, and it wasn’t too long ago either.

Castiel’s hand slides over Dean’s side. His shirts have ridden up and the skin of his waist is sleep warm. It twitches under Castiel’s palm. The jeans rest over Dean’s hips and Castiel traces the edge, following it to the small of Dean’s back. He dips his fingers under the rough fabric, finding by touch the swell of his ass. It’s still such a foreign word to him, but when used in conjunction to Dean’s body, Castiel finds that he rather likes it.

His other hand is working up under Dean’s shirt, palm flat against the planes of his stomach. The more he touches, the faster the sleep-fog dissipates. Quiet grunts and soft hisses keep being muffled by the pillow, but Castiel’s flared side-fans catch every sound. He moves the blanket down and slowly drags Dean’s shirt up, baring his belly and his chest – a whole new stretch of skin to explore until Dean wakes.

He slips down, fitting his mouth to the round bruises still dotting Dean’s chest, tongue sliding over one of his nipples. Dean twitches and the sleep-fog evaporates with a sharp groan. Castiel smiles as a hand curls over one of his back-fans and slides down until it can follow his arm from his elbow up to his shoulder.

“Cas.” Dean grunts, his back curving under Castiel’s hand. “Gotta say this is one of the nicest ways I’ve been woken up recently.”

 _(If that door locks, you should do that.)_ He presses a wet trail of kisses up Dean’s chest until he reaches the shirt, skipping over it to seek out his mouth.

Dean makes a pleased noise and surges forward into the kiss, rolling them until Castiel is beneath him. The warmth that sings through Castiel’s veins louder than his blood fills the kin-connection, interwoven with want and arousal. Castiel hums happily into the kiss, hands baring Dean’s back. Dean pushes himself up, kneeling over Castiel’s hips as he pulls his shirts off. It breaks the kiss momentarily but then Dean is back, his hands warm over Castiel’s jaw and the side of his neck.

 _(The door, Dean.)_ Castiel reminds him gently, though he still chases the kisses whenever Dean draws back to gasp a breath.

Amusement curls through the kin-connection and Dean’s fingers slide under his side-fans, dipping up behind to brush through his hair. _(You sure are focused on that door.)_

Castiel traces the lines of Dean’s back, feeling the roll of muscles under his palms. _(I don’t want to be interrupted.)_

A thrill spirals through the kin-connection, thick with anticipation and approval as Dean rolls his hips and rubs against Castiel’s sheath. He leans back, hands on Castiel’s shoulders to keep him from following. _(And_ what _don’t you want interrupted, I wonder?)_

With a small noise of frustration, Castiel fills the kin-connection with the memory of Dean’s promise to cover him in hickeys. He follows it with the wispy remnants of his dream. Dean stifles a groan and sags forward, sinking back into a fevered kiss that leaves Castiel’s chest burning for air and it’s getting harder and harder to hold back from unsheathing.

His fingers fumble on the clasp of Dean’s pants - understandable when taking into account how very distracting Dean is being. He’s nipping almost painfully at Castiel’s throat, licking at the spot where his mark has long since disappeared. Castiel’s back arches when Dean sucks at his neck harshly, teeth dragging over the skin. He has no control over the broken gasps and little noises that force their way out of him as Dean makes good on his promise.

Castiel manages to get the pants open. Dean is already hard and he keeps twitching his hips forward whenever Castiel’s fingers brush over the line of his erection in his jeans. He works at renewing the mark by the end of Castiel’s collarbone, at the base of the top-spine of one of his back-fans. Castiel wants to flare them, to spread his fans as wide as they’ll go and show his dominance. He wants the lights to go out so he can glow brightly and show Dean his virility, show him that he hasn’t made a mistake in choosing to mate with him.

Another mark is sucked into the dip of his collarbone and that’s as many as Dean manages to make before Castiel pulls his face back up to his. He draws his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip, soothing the sting with gentle licks and soft sucks.

“Door.” Castiel hisses against his mouth, raking his fingers through his hair and down his back. He forces his hands under his jeans, digging into firm flesh to hold Dean tightly in place as he rolls their hips together. “Want Dean. Lock door.”

Dean mutters several swears in the space between their mouths. The kin-connection is alive, thick with warmth and want, _yes_ and _please_. It’s not all Castiel’s and that feels nearly as good as the satisfaction when Dean slams his fist into the pillow before pulling away. He hates that Dean has to leave the bed even for just a brief moment, but he’s rewarded with the sight of him staggering to the door while trying to remove his pants.

 _(Can you turn off the lights too?)_ Castiel asks tentatively, hopefully, as he sits up on the curl of his tail.

 _(I won’t be able to see you if I do that.)_ Dean turns a little protrusion on the door knob before he faces the room again, kicking his pants off into a corner.

Castiel absently traces the designs of his glow-pattern. _(You’ll be able to see just fine. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.)_

Dean drops to his knees next to the bed and Castiel watches as he pulls his guitar case out and opens it. The guitar has no strings on it and the hollow base  is stuffed full with what looks like clothing. There are a few more clothes tucked around the guitar. Dean moves several of the items, lifting the guitar to get at the space under the thin piece. He takes out the bottle with the slippery jelly and hands it to Castiel. Then he tugs at a string sticking out of the lid of the case and it pops out, revealing a hidden flat space.

There is a big, thin book with a guitar on the front of it, and next to it is the book that Dean writes in, the one that holds the picture of his mother. Several condoms are scattered throughout the space. He tosses two onto the bed before rearranging the items and closing it again. Instead of turning off the lights, Dean opens a small section of the corner of the wall next to the drawers. Castiel moves out of the way as Dean draws a hanging sheet from the opening and slides onto the bed, pulling it the length of the bed until it meets the wall.

It’s like the blanket-cave Dean had made before. There’s a little light coming in along the edges, but the bed-cave is dark enough for Castiel’s glow to return in full force. He rubs his hand over his scales and smiles at Dean, pleased with the way his glow tints Dean’s skin blue. Castiel likes seeing Dean reflecting his light. It makes something dark, something possessive, twist in his stomach.

Dean fumbles with the condoms and Castiel slides closer. He spreads his end-fans and angles it closer to Dean’s hands so he can see what he’s doing. Gratitude tickles through the kin-connection and Castiel follows Dean’s hand with his fingers as he rolls the condom on. He leans against Dean’s side and kisses his shoulder, tracing the length of Dean’s erection under the guidance of the small hints and suggestions provided through their link.

 _(How come you’re not out yet?)_ Dean looks pointedly at Castiel’s sheath. He manages to run his palm over it once before Castiel smacks his hand away.

 _(You’re not going to touch me until you’re ready.)_ Castiel moves until he’s curled between Dean’s legs, leaning on his hands on either side of Dean’s hips. He kisses him again, long and lingering. _(It’s been almost three days since I got to touch you, since I got to taste you. Lilith kept us from our previous plans and she’s not here now. Dean, I want you.)_

Dean folds back to the bed, dragging Castiel down after him. The sound of his voice sends shivers along Castiel’s spine. “Yeah? How do you want me, Cas? Why don’t you tell me more about that dream of yours.”

 _(I want you in whatever ways you’ll let me have you.)_ Castiel suffuses the statement with the warmth in his chest and leans his temple against the side of Dean’s jaw. _(What I shared with you is all I remember of the dream. It was very enjoyable and you were very –)_

Clever fingers start rubbing along the edges of where the webbing of his back-fans connect to his back. “I was what?”

 _(Hot – you were burning me from the outside in.)_ He presses a kiss to the beating pulse in Dean’s throat. _(It was like bright-pearl itself resided in your skin and when I moved in you, it was ecstasy.)_

Dean stifles a groan, arching up into the drag of Castiel’s fingers over his chest. His hips won’t hold still, rubbing his erection against Castiel’s stomach. Castiel follows his fingers with his mouth, curling his tail around one of Dean’s leg as he slides down his body. He fits one hand to the back of Dean’s leg, moving it with the promise to go further.

 _(Please, Dean. May I?)_ Castiel keeps his fans flat while he asks. The decision is Dean’s and he won’t act until he has his permission.

He groans again, breath hitching as he lifts his leg higher. Dean spreads his legs more and his consent is like a searing wave through the kin-connection. Castiel stifles his own pleased sound against Dean’s stomach. He gropes across the bed for the bottle he knows Dean put somewhere, he just can’t find it without pulling his mouth away from the heat of his skin.

Dean shifts and something hard presses against the back of his head in place of Dean’s hand. Castiel looks up and Dean grins down at him knowingly. He wiggles the bottle and taps it against Castiel’s forehead. “Looking for this?”

Castiel takes the bottle and sits back on the fold of his tail. He can’t keep his fans from flaring at the sight of Dean holding his legs behind his knees and pulling them to his chest. Dean’s grin only gets wider. His fingers slip in the jelly and Dean twitches, hissing at the first cool touch to his skin. Even though Castiel has done this a few times before, Dean still gives him directions through the kin-connection. He tells him how slow he should go, when he thinks he’s ready for another finger, and where he should curl them to rub at that different spot inside him.

By the time Dean shoves his hand away, Castiel has four fingers stretching him and Dean can’t hold still. His body keeps rolling, moving down against Castiel’s fingers and up against the hand he has resting over Dean’s penis. Castiel is fully unsheathed and the heated air in the bed-cave is cool compared to the heat of Dean’s body.

It’s Dean’s turn to paw blindly at the blankets, the image of the other condom hazy and unfocused in the kin-connection. Castiel finds it and he manages to tear it open before Dean sits up to take it from him. He hisses at the touch of warm fingers and Castiel glares hatefully at the condom as Dean puts it over his penis.

Dean applies more of the slippery jelly to Castiel’s erection before he lays back again. He rubs more of it over the ring of muscles between his legs and Castiel doesn’t stifle the needy whine in the back of his throat at the sight. Castiel watches closely as Dean’s fingers dip in briefly, checking to see if he really is ready. Dean bites his lip and spreads his fingers, hips jerking almost violently.

 _(Are you ready?)_ Castiel asks, rubbing his hands along Deans thighs.

“Yeah.” Dean’s breathing stutters when Castiel moves his hand away. “How do you want to do it, Cas?”

 _(I want to see you.)_ His adipose-fins ripple, rustling over the blankets as he leans over Dean to taste his kisses again. _(All of you. Please, Dean.)_

He’s in the middle of showing Castiel through the kin-connection the many different ways they could do that when there’s a thump on the other side of the hanging-sheet and the door rattles against the lock. Castiel hisses, his fans flaring unhappily. He doesn’t want to be interrupted, not right now. Not when he’s so close to finally having Dean. There’s a muffled shout and the door rattles more and Dean thumps his head back against the pillow, mumbling curses under his breath.

Dean sits up sharply, ignoring Castiel’s glare and he pulls the hanging-sheet out of the way. Thankfully, he doesn’t get up. He leans over the edge of the bed and looks critically at the door. “Occupied! Come back in an hour!”

Silence meets him and then there’s another thump. “We share that room, jerk!”

“I’ll be sure to hang a sock on the door next time, bitch. Go the hell away.” He closes off the bed-cave again and ignores the unhappy, muffled curses that eventually fade. Dean draws Castiel to him again, hands warm on the back of his neck. “Now, where were we?”

 _(You said once before that it would be easier on you if I were on my back. Would you like to do it that way?)_ Castiel pulses curiosity and concern into the kin-connection as he presses kisses along Dean’s jaw, finding his ear by touch and licking at it like he did before Dean woke up. He has no preference for how this should be done, but he wants to make sure that Dean is comfortable.

“I don’t know if we’ve got enough head space for it, but we can sure as hell try.”

They shuffle and slide around the bed until Dean is hunched above Castiel, sitting over his stomach. He hits his head a few times trying to kneel high enough and every time he curses and ducks back down. By the third time, Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him down until they are chest to chest.

_(Stop hitting your head.)_

“Kinda hard not to.” He mumbles against Castiel’s neck, hands inching lower down his stomach. “Angle your hips more – just a little bit.”

Images in the kin-connection guide him and Castiel folds his tail up over Dean’s back, end-fans spreading to hang over the back of his neck and the end of his tail curls to the curve of his shoulder. Every time his erection brushes against any part of Dean, the heat pooled in his gut flares high into his chest. He can feel little sounds bubbling in his throat and Castiel has to force himself to stay quiet.

Dean reaches between them and under his legs, his fingers almost too warm where they touch Castiel. He can’t stop the little cry when a tight heat presses against the head of his penis. Despite the preparation, there is still a little resistance before it finally gives way and Castiel sucks in one sharp breath, mirroring Dean’s own. Castiel is staring up at Dean but he’s not sure if he’s really seeing him. There’s so much pressure and heat and he has to fight not to move, not to thrust up into that feeling because Dean is telling him not to with near silent reminders in the kin-connection.

There’s a flash of amusement through the link, but it is quickly lost in a rush of pleasure. Dean rocks back and forth steadily, his elbows pressing into the bed above Castiel’s shoulders. There’s more and more heat every time Dean moves and he digs his fingers into Dean’s back for something to hold on to, for something to distract himself so he doesn’t move until Dean is ready.

Dean keeps making little breathy noises against Castiel’s side-fan and his skin is burning under Castiel’s hands. Everything is heat and warmth and _Dean_. The scent of his arousal is thick in the stifling air of the bed-cave and it’s intoxicating. His ribs tingle, like they’re cold and hot at the same time. Castiel can hardly breathe and he’s not even doing anything yet.

“Just – just wait, Cas –” Dean hisses and there’s a brush of tongue against the scales on his cheek before he’s kissing him. It’s gentle and meant to be calming, but it steals what little breath he has and only makes the lava in his veins burn hotter.

Several long minutes later, after Dean has been rocking and adjusting and finding a steady rhythm, he kisses Castiel purposefully. He kisses him like he’s trying to draw out the heat that clouds Castiel’s mind. He kisses him like he’s trying to completely destroy every last bit of his will power and Castiel arches into it. It’s the first he’s really moved since they started and Dean huffs in surprise against his mouth.

 _(Dean – I want to – please let me –)_ He drags his hands down his back, palms pressing into the small of his back. Castiel knows he could hurt Dean if he’s not careful. He’s not completely shaped like Dean is used to and if Castiel hurts him, he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

“Yeah – okay, yeah.” Dean sounds as breathless as Castiel feels. “Go slow. Stop if I tell you to.”

His voice washes over Castiel, digging under his skin and fueling the heat in his stomach with much the same effect that his touches have. Castiel’s back-fans catch uncomfortably on the bedding as he slides down a little, giving himself the room he needs to rock his hips against Dean. He hisses against Castiel’s lips when he pulls out slowly and groans when he pushes back in.

It’s indescribable.

The feeling, the heat, the sounds and smells. Castiel is very nearly overwhelmed. It’s Dean’s kisses, his soft words of encouragement and everything that lights up the kin-connection brighter than his natural glow – they all keep Castiel grounded. It keeps him from losing himself entirely in the rhythm of their bodies and how Dean slides against him, around him.

Castiel doesn’t have the time to think about what he’s doing. He doesn’t marvel at how he’s _in_ Dean, or at the differences between their bodies. His senses are all he’s left with and he can’t even form coherent thoughts in the kin-connection. He’s reduced to base desires and how Dean’s hand is in his hair, forcing his head to tilt back. His mouth is on Castiel’s throat and every swipe of his tongue, scrape of his teeth, suck of his mouth – every bit of it is building upon the storm that boils in him.

It’s not like the dream in any way. There’s more in Dean’s body than bright-pearl could ever hope to fill and it’s almost more than he can take. Every time Castiel arches his back a certain way, snapping his hips in shallow thrusts, Dean breathes a strangled gasp against the underside of his jaw. Too many days have passed since he last felt like this and everything is coming to a head too quickly.

Castiel grabs Dean’s hips to stop him from moving and it takes everything that he is to stop himself too.

“Fuck – Cas, what are – why did you – _goddammit_ –” Dean leans heavily against his chest while he tries to push Castiel’s hands away.

 _(Too soon, it’s too soon.)_ Castiel struggles to breathe, struggles to return to himself and stave off the storm for a little while longer. _(I don’t want it to end yet.)_

Dean groans, displeasure flickering through the kin-connection. “Are you fucking kidding me? Cas, I haven’t came since the last time we touched, I’m not even touching myself _now_ and you want to take a little break? Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

 _(Of course not.)_ The idea is profoundly ridiculously.

He sits back, hands cupping Castiel’s cheeks almost harshly, tilting his face until he can look him in the eye. “It’s okay if you come first. It’s okay if I come first. It doesn’t matter either way, just _don’t stop_ and _keep fucking me_.”

Castiel bites his lip and stifles a quiet noise. He doesn’t want this to stop. He doesn’t want it to ever end. This heat, this pleasure, _Dean_. Why can’t they stay like this forever? Just the two of them. He rubs his cheek against Dean’s palm. It was so hard to get himself to stop, and he wants to move, he wants to keep rocking into the tight and the heat and everything that is _Dean_. He wants it but he’s so close to the storm edge and when he reaches it, it will all be over.

“But there’s always later, Cas. We can do this again and again until we get you home.” Dean murmurs, soothing the thoughts Castiel wasn’t even aware he was sharing. “It’s the first time, Cas, not the last.” He rocks slightly in the loosening hold of Castiel’s hands.

When Castiel starts moving again, Dean’s eyes slide closed and he makes a pleased noise. Castiel leans up to kiss him, hands sliding to his waist, to his back, to his shoulders and into his hair. Dean is breathing too hard for them to kiss properly. They’re not so much kissing as they are breathing each other’s air.

Dean rocks back particularly hard and whines a familiar sound that Castiel is certain he will never tire of hearing. They try to recreate that specific movement with every back-forth-grind of their bodies until Castiel sees white, hears nothing, and he’s not even sure of the sound he makes against Dean’s shoulder when the storm churning in his belly fills him from the end of his tail to the top of his head.

He’s barely aware of Dean’s quiet cursing or how his tail slides from Dean’s back, flopping heavily to the bed. Dean lifts from his lap and Castiel whimpers quietly at the loss of all the heat. Dean is only gone for what  few moments it takes to remove the condom before Castiel’s penis returns to the sheath. Then he’s leaning back in and he kisses Castiel until he is brought back to focus again, until he remembers that Dean hasn’t orgasmed yet.

Castiel rolls them. It takes much shifting and Castiel’s back-fans get caught more than once on the blanket before they manage to get Dean settled in the middle of the bed. Surprise flares through the kin-connection when Castiel pushes Dean’s legs apart and curls between them. Dean watches him curiously, and appreciation twists sharply through their link as Castiel leans down and licks along the erection laying heavy on Dean’s stomach.

Dean guides him through the kin-connection until Castiel settles into a decent rhythm, his hands moving to match the slide of his mouth. Fingers curl in his hair and Dean’s hips twitch in tiny thrusts, never pushing very deep because they both know that Castiel can’t take all of him without gagging. Dean jerks and hisses as Castiel carefully presses one finger, and then another, into him. A thousand different sounds fill the bed-cave and Castiel loves every one of them. He doesn’t need Dean’s guidance to find that different place inside him and rub the pad of his finger over it. It doesn’t take very long for Dean’s fingers to tighten, holding him in place again as his back arches and he groans Castiel’s name.

He gets dragged up by his hair and Castiel hisses at the sharp pull. Dean kisses him hard, searching, yet somehow still tender. Castiel settles heavily over Dean, tail curling around his leg and scales rubbing over his skin. They only pull apart long enough for Dean to get his hands between them and remove his condom.

The kisses die off slowly and Castiel tucks his nose against Dean’s neck. Gentle fingers run through his hair, following a path down his spine before repeating the motion all over again. More than once Dean tries to pull away – muttering quietly that he needs to put on pants, unlock the door, find something to clear the air with because it smells like sex and Bobby is going to complain. Castiel refuses to let Dean and his heat leave the bed, going so far as to pull the blanket over them both to keep them warm.

“What if I told you I have to go to the bathroom? Would you let me up then?” Dean asks, his translation teasing through the kin-connection and his smile obvious against Castiel’s forehead.

_(You’d be lying if you did.)_

“Not if I said I should probably take another shower. I had one this morning, but then you went and made me all sweaty and stuff. Anyone who looks at me now is going to know exactly what we did.”

 _(Good.)_ Castiel kisses the mark in the middle of Dean’s throat.

Dean chuckles and rubs purposefully behind Castiel’s side-fans, forcing a purr to rumble in his chest. _(Well as much as you might enjoy this, the congealed sweat doesn’t feel all that awesome.)_

He rubs his cheek against Dean’s shoulder, licking lightly at the scabs of his bite mark. _(I don’t want you to go yet.)_

 _(You could always join me. It won’t be quite the same as shared showers that I’ve had before, but I bet it could be just as fun.)_ Dean fills the kin-connection with his imaginings and Castiel’s back-fans flare, hitting the wall. The thump and pained hiss makes Dean laugh more.

Begrudgingly, Castiel lets Dean up. He hides his face in the pillow, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light as Dean pushes the hanging-sheet back into its hiding place. Castiel peeks out, watching Dean stand and stretch, groaning as his spine makes popping noises. Dean starts getting dressed, wincing as he bends over to pull his pants up.

Castiel sits up quickly, ducking before he hits the frame of the bed above him. _(Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?)_

Dean sits on the edge of the bed and he tries to hide his wince, but Castiel sees it as he leans in to run a hand through his hair and press a concerned kiss to his cheek. _(Don’t worry. I’m just a little sore – it usually always happens after a good session like that. Hell, my legs ache a little too. Next time, I get to be on my back.)_

 _(When will be the next time?)_ He slides closer, drawing Dean into a proper kiss. _(Are the others always going to be out of this room? Would we be able to get our own? How long will you be sore? Will you be too sore for the next time?)_

Laughter breaks the kiss and Dean shoves at his shoulders as he stands. “Whoa, cowboy, slow down. I feel like I’ve created a monster.”

 _(I’m not a monster.)_ Castiel frowns up at him, slightly insulted, as Dean does up a few of the buttons on his shirt.

“I know you’re not. It’s just an expression, Cas. And to answer all your other questions, I’ll be fine soon enough. We can lock the door to keep the others out and we’ll just ignore whatever complaints they’ve got.” He slips on his shoes and smiles at Castiel. Something sad curls through the kin-connection for a moment before it vanishes behind a wall in Dean’s mind. “I doubt we’ll be able to get our own room, since the boat is pretty full. But if you really want one, I could check for you. Benny might be able to do some shuffling. Everyone just wants to make you as comfortable as possible, so they might do it.”

Dean opens the door and looks back at Castiel while he gets his bathroom kit from one of the drawers at the end of the bed. “I’m going to take a quick shower. You want to join me?”

_(That would be the opposite of ‘quick’ wouldn’t it?)_

_(Yeah, it probably would be.)_ Dean scratches absently at the blue-white cast on his arm. _(But I don’t want to leave you in here alone. I know you don’t want that either. If you’d prefer to go back in the ocean, I can take you outside instead.)_

Castiel frowns, tail curling under the blankets. _(I want to stay with you.)_

Something Castiel doesn’t recognize flickers over Dean’s expression. The kin-connection goes silent and Castiel’s worry spirals, eating away at all the good feelings he had remaining. Castiel makes a quiet, curious, keening noise and Dean’s fingers flex over the edge of the drawer.

 _(You want to stay with me, but I know you don’t want to go further onto the boat and I’m not going to take you anywhere you’re not comfortable with.)_ Dean runs his hand through his hair, but he’s still not looking at Castiel. _(I could send someone else in here to keep you company. Bobby, Jess, or Sam. They’ll probably want to keep the door open for a while.)_

Castiel shifts unhappily. Dean is hiding from him again and everything had been so nice. He doesn’t understand why what he said has made Dean like this. It makes his stomach twist and pain swells in his chest. Going further onto the boat does make him feel uncomfortable, but being separated from Dean so soon after what they just shared makes him feel worse.

_(How far in are the showers?)_

Dean looks at him curiously, a gentle hope curling through his thoughts. _(Down the hall. They’re mid-ship. It’s a single stall room, so we’ll be alone. If we keep our hands to ourselves, then we’ll be out before you know it.)_

Castiel leans over the edge of the bed, groping for his weapons. He comes up with his dagger and leaves his sword where it is. _(I’ll come with you.)_

 _(You gonna shank anyone who gets too close?)_ Dean looks pointedly at the dagger.

He shakes his head and gestures at his face. _(While you are showering, I am going to shave.)_

He laughs and bends over to pick Castiel up. _(I still have my razor, you know.)_

 _(I am aware. But I’ve been using this since I first started growing facial hair. I can shave without a mirror and without the foam.)_ He holds the dagger angled away from Dean’s body as he wraps his arms around his shoulders, trying to ignore the way Dean winces when he lifts him. He curls his tail around Dean’s waist as he adjusts to carrying him upright, his elbows on Dean’s shoulders. _(And we don’t have to waste time washing my scales or fans. I can do those in the deep.)_

Dean hesitates for a moment as he goes out into the hall, but Castiel doesn’t miss the way his thoughts twist unhappily before the walls hide them again. _(When will that be?)_

Before they had taken their nap, Castiel would have said ‘tonight’. He wants to spend more time in the ocean and dive in the deeps, but now… Now he can’t bring himself to say it because he knows it’s not true. Castiel sleeps better with Dean beside him. He doesn’t know when it became like this, but it just _is_. And he’s going to lose this sooner than he ever wants to.

Castiel will always have the ocean. He won’t always have Dean.

 _(I don’t know.)_ He dips his head to press a kiss to Dean’s temple. _(The next time I have the opportunity, I suppose.)_

One of the doors on the hall is wide open. Dean steps through and kicks the door shut behind them. He places Castiel on a ledge to the left and he ends up nearly sitting in the sink for how small the ledge is. This room is much tinier than the shower-room Castiel had been in before. It is square and there is a white chair in the left corner opposite the door. But the chair has a large hole in the seat – which makes no sense to Castiel.

The white chair is recessed in a small alcove. There is a wall that separates it from another alcove that has a wall of glass. This glass is a different kind than Castiel has ever seen before. It is foggy and he can’t see through it. The sink that Castiel is practically sitting in is also recessed into the wall to the left of the door. Opposite him are shelves built into the wall and each shelf is full of towels.

_(Why does the chair have a hole in it? That can’t be very comfortable.)_

Dean snorts laughter and starts undressing again. _(It’s a toilet. That’s where we take a piss or shit and we flush it away so we don’t have to look at it. I’m probably going to want to do that soon. You’re either going to have to stay in the shower or sit outside because I’m not doing that where you can watch. It’s really not my thing.)_

_(You’re a very strange species.)_

_(Yeah, we kinda are.)_ Dean’s boots hit the wall when he kicks them off and he locks the door on his way to stand in front of Castiel. He puts his hands on the ledge and leans forward, cornering him. _(What you said – that you’ll go deep when you have the ‘opportunity’. What did you mean by that?)_

Castiel tilts his head, brow crinkling in confusion. _(It means exactly what I said. Was there something you didn’t understand about that?)_

 _(Yes, Cas, there is. I want to know_ when _that’s going to be.)_

 _(I don’t know.)_ Castiel places his dagger on the ledge behind him and reaches out to run his hands through Dean’s hair, to cradle the back of his neck and pull him close. _(I want to stay with you, Dean. I want to stay with you while we’re together. I don’t like being away from the sea when I have my freedom, but I hate being away from you more than that. Especially when we have so little time left.)_

Dean closes the rest of the distance between them and after the small, almost desperate noise he makes, Castiel is expecting it to be rough. He’s expecting anything but the gentle, lingering brush of lips against his own. Warmth spirals through the kin-connection. It still feels strained, like Dean isn’t letting it all out, but he shares more of it every other day and Castiel can’t keep his tail from curling around his legs or his hands from cupping his face and pressing repeated kisses to his mouth. Dean’s hands slide under him, fingers digging into the swell of his tail and he lifts Castiel again, carries him back a few steps until he bumps into the shelves.

 _(It’s going to be a tight fit in the shower, okay? It’s bigger than the average stall, but you’re going to have to keep your tail around the wall. I don’t want to accidentally step on anything.)_ Dean’s thoughts stutter around the words and he staggers as he tries to paw at the glass without dropping Castiel. _(You’re gonna be eye level with certain_ things _. If you want to get back to the room faster, than you keep your hands to yourself.)_

Castiel presses kisses along his jaw to below his ear. _(You’ll have to put me down for that and I can make no promises. You are very enticing.)_

Dean groans and he slides down the wall slowly. Castiel unwraps from around his waist and curls his tail under him before Dean lets go. He stands up with a heavy sigh and only a slight wince and Dean takes a moment to lean his head back against the wall before he grips the top of the glass and pulls. It opens like a door and Castiel recognizes the inside as the same as the shower alcoves in the bathroom on Lilith’s ship.

He turns on the water and gets his kit from the ledge, pulling a few small bottles out of it and a roll of blue that Castiel recognizes as the sleeve he wears to cover his cast. Castiel slides into the shower ahead of him and leans against the wall under the spray. The water isn’t too warm. It’s actually almost cold and Castiel pulses appreciation into the kin-connection for Dean’s consideration. He has to sit sideways so his tail curls around the edges of the small alcove without blocking the drain and leaving just enough space for Dean to stand. He won’t be able to move much once he’s in too.

When Dean steps in and shuts the glass-door behind him, Castiel keeps his eyes downcast. Even when he accepts his dagger he doesn’t look up. Dean blocks most of the spray, but Castiel is okay with that. He distracts himself by shaving by touch, finding the edge of his stubble and scraping the blade of the dagger over it systematically. Every so often he requests that Dean lean to one side so the spray can wash away the hairs.

Not once does he look up. He doesn’t look up when white foam starts running down Dean’s legs. And he doesn’t look up when Dean hisses something about soap and eyes. It’s very tempting to look up at the slick sounds of soaped hands running over skin. Castiel hopes that Dean isn’t touching himself like he was the last time he saw him in the shower. He shares the thought.

“No, I’m not.” Dean laughs and Castiel is almost certain he feels fingers brush against one of his side-fans. “The shower’s too cold for that.”

 _(Why don’t you make it warmer then?)_ Castiel asks, balancing his dagger over his lap and carefully feeling out his cheeks and jaw for any patches he might have missed.

_(Because you’re here and as much as you like my body heat, you don’t actually like hot water. And if I started jerking off with you right there, you really think you’d be able to keep from lending a helping hand?)_

Castiel presses his lips together and shakes his head. There’s no way he’d be wouldn’t at least try to touch Dean if he was aroused and within arm’s reach. Dean sends satisfaction into the kin-connection, pleased with the answer. _(And it would probably lead to a longer shower than you want us to have.)_ Dean keeps laughing and more bubbles and foam flows down his legs.

There’s a moment’s pause while Castiel feels his throat before Dean speaks again. _(Here, Cas, let me check for you.)_

He crouches and Castiel finds himself between Dean’s knees. His fans flare in surprise and his back-fans hit the leg behind him while he stares down at the knee in front of him. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut when Dean tilts his face with gentle fingers on his chin.

 _(Dude, good job. I didn’t think you’d be able to do so well with just a knife, but it looks as good as if I’d done it for you. I’m impressed.)_ Dean slides his fingers over his cheeks, checking everywhere and the touches are making little tingles run down Castiel’s spine. _(And for someone who refused to make the promise to keep their hands to themselves, you’re doing a pretty good job of it.)_

Castiel flicks his back-fans again, dragging the spines along the inside of Dean’s leg. _(This is a cramped space and it isn’t conducive to touching. I prefer having you some place soft where your knees or your back won’t suffer against a hard surface.)_

The end of his tail, curled against the small of his back, twitches hard, adipose fans ripple over the smooth surface of the shower floor. It almost feels like his scales are aching to touch Dean again. Castiel wants to curl around Dean. He wants to touch Dean, and not just for pleasure. Being in contact with Dean makes him feel better, more calm and centered.

Heat spikes through the kin-connection and Dean presses a drawn out kiss to his temple, his fingers dragging through his hair and along his jaw. _(Look at you, being all considerate.)_ Dean laughs and stands again.

It’s only a few moments later when the water turns off. The glass-door creaks and the space next to Castiel is bereft of Dean’s heat. It gets much cooler and Castiel suppresses a shiver. He looks up in time to see Dean wrapping a towel around his waist. Dean takes another off the shelf and passes it to him. Castiel pat-dries himself and gives the towel back to Dean. He puts it in a tall basket under the sink. When Dean hands him a toothpaste covered toothbrush, Castiel frowns and flares his fans unhappily.

He brushes his teeth, glaring at Dean as he gets dressed. Dean unexpectedly shuts him in the shower and turns on the sink, the sound of rushing water filling the air. _(Don’t come out until I say you can, and for the love of pie don’t peek this time.)_

 _(Why?)_ Castiel pulls his hand back from the glass to keep from pushing it open.

_(I’m using the can.)_

He has to wait until Dean is done before he’s allowed to push open the door and slide-pull himself out. Dean stands at the sink and starts brushing his own teeth. Castiel has to hold the toothbrush in his mouth as he drag-pushes himself across the floor to be next to Dean. It’s not that far of a long distance. If Castiel curls his tail underneath himself, he can just see over the ledge.

Amusement fills the kin-connection and Dean steps back to give Castiel room to pull himself up higher with his arms on the ledge. Castiel glares at his reflection in the mirror and that only makes Dean smile around his toothbrush. He can’t get high enough to be able to spit into the sink and Dean pauses his brushing to lift Castiel with his arms around his waist.

By the time they get back to the room, it is no longer empty. Sam is sitting on the floor, his back to the wall opposite the door. Jess and Meg are on Jess’s bed again and this time they have quite a few papers spread out before them. The room smells cloying and Castiel crinkles his nose at the scent. It reminds him of Lilith and he doesn’t like it.

“New rule, Dean.” Sam speaks without even looking up from the book spread open in his lap. “No sex in the room you share with _four other people_. And for the love of God, don’t leave you condoms on the floor. That’s disgusting and as used to it as I am, there are ladies present.”

“That one I’ll apologize for. They kind of slipped my mind, sorry.” Dean places Castiel on the bed and Castiel puts his dagger with his sword while Dean places his bathroom kit back in the drawer. “As for the ‘no sex’ rule, we’re probably going to be breaking that a few times a day.”

Meg makes a choking noise. “Jesus, Winchester! What are you, the energizer bunny?”

“Look at Cas and tell me that you’d be able to keep your hands off him if you were in my place.” Dean grins and sits on the edge of the bed, gesturing over his shoulder at Castiel.

She looks at them both critically and Castiel doesn’t like the way she looks him over. He huffs and curls his tail around Dean’s waist immediately, end-fans flaring over his lap. Dean laughs and runs his hand over his scales. Meg shrugs and tilts her head, making an expression Castiel isn’t familiar with. Judging by the satisfaction that thrums through the kin-connection, her answer is the one Dean expected.

“Case in point.” Dean reaches back and pats Castiel’s hip.

He bats Dean’s hand away, not pleased with the suggestion. Castiel doesn’t like thinking of anyone else touching him except for Dean. He lays on his belly, shoving his arms under the pillow and pressing his face into the soft surface. Breathing the combined scent of him and Dean clears his head of the funny smell in the air.

“Oh, for future reference – don’t spray perfume in here. Cas doesn’t like the smell.”

Castiel tightens his tail, appreciation filling the kin-connection. There are some things he doesn’t even need to say for Dean to pick up on. It’s another thing that changed between them and Castiel isn’t sure when it happened. It’s just another thing that he will miss when he finally gets home.

“We had to do something about the sex smell.” Meg makes a face again.

Dean shrugs. “You could have just let it air out first.”

“You could have just not gotten your game on in our room.” Sam mutters quietly.

“Sure, okay. Try saying that the next time you wake up with Jess’s hand down your pants.” Dean replies and immediately flinches at the dark look Jess sends his way. “I didn’t mean it like that, sorry. It was just an example. But seriously, it’s freaking impossible to say ‘no’ to Cas when he’s all –”

“Dean.” Sam looks up sharply. “I’m begging you, don’t describe it.”

Castiel mumbles an apology into the pillow, though he feels absolutely no remorse for his actions. If anything, with the intoxicating scent of the bedding, he would very much like for there to be no one else in the room again. He twitches the end of his tail over Dean’s thigh in gentle strokes, a soft caress that could be passed off as nothing more than the movement of his tail.

Dean doesn’t react. He doesn’t acknowledge the touch and continues to speak with the others as if nothing was happening. He continues to tease Sam and Jess just keeps giggling. Meg makes faces or laughs along with Jess, but they keep talking to each other over the papers spread before them on the bed. There is currently no hope of kicking anyone out of the room for him and Dean to be alone.

He loses track of their conversation, instead letting his thoughts drift. They segue from one memory to the next and each new one weighs heavily upon him, stifling his lungs and making it hard to breathe even after he turns his face out of the pillow. Castiel can’t stop thinking about earlier, about how much he’s going to miss Dean, miss this closeness, miss everything. He’s going to miss the banter with Sam and how Jess looks at Dean with fond exasperation, as if she was his little sister too.

It’s only been a few sentry rotations, not even a month by human standards, and Castiel feels like he’s being torn in half the closer they get to his home. He wants to return to his family, to everything he’s ever known. But he doesn’t want to leave _this_. He doesn’t want to leave Dean and this new family that has so readily accepted him despite his differences and all the trouble his presence has brought them.

Castiel flinches out of the painful spiraling thoughts when fingers run through his hair. A kiss is pressed to the scales on his cheek and he turns to find that Dean is practically leaning on him. _(Hey, you okay?)_

He twists, threading his arms around Dean’s chest and pressing his face to his neck. _(I don’t know.)_

 _(You had walls up, so I wasn’t able to follow what’s going on in that head of yours.)_ Concern curls tightly through the kin-connection. _(What’s wrong?)_

He only shakes his head and presses closer, ignoring the sudden silence of the other three occupants in the room. _(It’s nothing.)_

 _(Sure doesn’t look like nothing. You were practically hyperventilating.)_ Dean runs a soothing hand over his back, the kin-connection thick with worry and warmth. _(Is it because we were talking about getting the chip out?)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he pulls back to look up at Dean. He hadn’t been paying attention and because of that he missed a very important conversation. _(You were talking about–? What did they say about it?)_

 _(Meg says she’s pretty certain she can get the chip out just by looking at the scans they took. Jess isn’t so sure and she wants to remove it while taking constant pictures with the x-ray.)_ Dean starts to sit back and Castiel tightens his arms, keeping him in place no matter how uncomfortable the position might be for him. _(They both agree that they’ll be able to use the same kind of needle that Pam did before, but you’re all healed up now, so they won’t have the guide to find it as easily as Pam did.)_

“Dean –?” Sam starts quietly and Dean shakes his head, holding up his hand to silence him.

 _(Do you still want to go through with it? We can try sending a message to Ash to check for a tag-signal to Lilith’s satellite instead, if that’s better for you.)_ His hand doesn’t hold still, running over Castiel’s side and his back, up his arm and through his hair. _(We’ll only do what you want, Cas. Nobody is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do anymore.)_

Castiel hesitates, thinking it over. _(Is it safe?)_

_(The chip isn’t too deep, but there are muscles and nerves that Jess is worried Meg will hit. She wants her to practice first before actually trying anything on you.)_

_(When do they want to do it?)_

_(Whenever you’re ready.)_

He shifts uncertainly and looks at Meg and Jess and their quiet discussion. _(I want it out. But I don’t want to risk damaging anything that might mean I won’t be able to swim again.)_

_(Practice, then?)_

Castiel nods and Dean smiles softly. He presses a gentle kiss to his forehead and sits up again, telling the others about his decision. Sam still looks uncertainly between them and Castiel tries not to look at him. Sometimes Sam looks at him like he knows all the things that are troubling him. Though sometimes he looks at Dean the same way too. It’s a little unnerving, but Dean has said the same about how Castiel looks at people too.

He sits up and leans against Dean’s side, trying to focus on the conversation and asking questions through Dean. Castiel could easily make the kin-connection with Sam or Jess, but it would cloud the link with their emotions too and right now Dean’s calming warmth is filling his head. It’s all Castiel wants to feel right now and he’s soaking it in, memorizing how it makes something behind his sternum flutter.

When Dean’s stomach makes a loud enough noise to startle Castiel, they both find out that it is late in the afternoon – nearly supper time according to the tiny clock that Sam wears on his wrist. They slept most of the day and Castiel didn’t even notice how hungry he is until he finds out how long it’s been since he last ate.

Almost as if summoned, Bobby arrives with Benny and they are both carrying food for everyone.

Castiel learns that there is no main room to eat in on this boat like there was on Lilith’s. If people want to eat, they have to get the food on stackable trays from the kitchen and then they can take it wherever they want. The trays have little legs that keeps it raised over their laps. Benny sits on the floor by the door while Bobby sits on the edge of the bed next to Dean.

It’s not long before the room is filled with laughter. Jokes and funny or embarrassing memories are swapped between everyone and, for a while, Castiel gets to forget about everything that was troubling him. The laughter is infectious and Castiel breaks down in soft chuckles often. Every time he laughs, delight curls through the kin-connection and Dean grins at him brightly.

He adds Dean’s smile to the long, growing list of things he will miss.


	31. The Inbetween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shrugs again, flaring his fan into Dean’s hand. _(The colony is good for me. Outsiders, nomads and loners don’t live long. Being alone in the deeps is insanity, and there’s safety in numbers. We’ve survived for countless generations like this. Why would I want to change any of that just so I’m entertained? I’ve never found what I do boring.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Happy Birthday to sherryandgin!! ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: likhoradka, lordwhat, sideburns-and-trenchcoats, unpopularsovereignty, staticscare, glu10morgen, seraphlimonade, and mishakaleins.
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

When everyone is going to bed and the lights go out, Dean closes the hanging-sheet around their bed again. Before Castiel can even think of trying to get his hands under Dean’s clothing again, Dean sprays him in the face with water from the spray bottle. It startles him and Castiel doesn’t move, blinking at Dean while he tucks the bottle in the corner at the head of the bed with another and stretches out as best he can in the small space until his back pops.

 _(Not while the others are here. Closing the curtain doesn’t equate sex, Cas.)_ Dean explains, setting an alarm on the phone that Jess gave him to use.

Castiel frowns and leans over Dean, rubbing his face against Dean’s shirt to dry it before he wiggles into place against his side. _(Then why did you close it?)_

 _(Because you glow in the dark and that might make it harder for the others to get to sleep.)_ Dean laughs and shoves him away, rolling onto his side to face the hang – no, the ‘curtain’.   _(You’re just lucky that I’m used to sleeping with the lights on.)_

Castiel curls around Dean’s back. Despite the laughter that gets a few shushes and one annoyed “Shut up, you idjits!” from the other side of the curtain, and how Dean keeps trying to push his hands away, Castiel manages to get his arms around Dean and his fingers under his sleep-shirt to warm them on his stomach. He uses his tail to lift the blanket close enough for Dean to grab it and pull it over their shoulders.

With his nose pressed to the back of Dean’s neck, Castiel tangles his tail with Dean’s legs and presses a gentle kiss to the top of his spine. _(Yes, I am very lucky.)_

Dean squirms and embarrassment curls through the kin-connection, lined heavily with warmth. _(Go to sleep, Cas.)_

 _(We woke up not more than a few hours ago. I’m not sleepy.)_ He says it even as he stifles a yawn against Dean’s skin.  

 _(Nice try, Pinocchio. But we barely got six hours today and we’ve been up longer than you know.)_ Dean rests his hand over Castiel’s, pressing his fingers against the webbing between them. _(It’s been an eventful few weeks, Cas. It’s okay to get some rest now.)_

He knows that. And he’d like to, he really would. Castiel is comfortable next to Dean, he’s warm and he still feels good from the long time they spent laughing and reminiscing. But he doesn’t feel that tired and he doesn’t want to start thinking about everything he was thinking before Dean and his family had effectively distracted him.

 _(But what if someone locks us in and changes course?)_ Castiel asks, his adipose fins valiantly trying to rustle under the blanket.

 _(No one is going to do anything, Cas. I told you, Benny is a good guy. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.)_ He turns slightly, and Castiel only needs to push himself up a little bit to be able to lean over him for a kiss.

Dean keeps it short, reminding him about the four other people on the other side of the curtain. Castiel doesn’t pout, but he still tucks his face against the back of Dean’s neck and lets his displeasure fill the kin-connection. Neither of them say anything for longer than Castiel knows. He thinks Dean might be on the verge of falling asleep, but then Dean rolls over in his arms, facing him.

_(You’re really worried that someone might change directions, right?)_

He nods. Dean sighs and leans forward to kiss him on the forehead once before he sits up. Castiel fills their link with confusion when Dean pulls the curtain open, but he is ignored as Dean leans out into the space between the beds.

“Sam, I need your watch.”

“Dude, you have Jess’s phone. It’s got a clock on it.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the compass on it like your fancy schmancy watch does. We’ll give it back in the morning. I just need it for tonight.”

There’s a heavy sigh from behind the curtain hiding Sam’s bed and then it gets pulled open too. Castiel watches over Dean’s shoulder as Sam removes the wrist-clock from his arm and holds it out to Dean. He gives him a dark look as he takes it. “Jess got me that watch for our anniversary. Don’t break it.”

“How the hell would we break it in _bed_?” Dean snorts, settling back next to Castiel. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Yeah, just remember that not everyone got to sleep half the day away. Keep it down – and for the love of all that is good, _please_ don’t have sex while we’re all in the room.” Sam gives him a serious and pointed look that Jess matches over his shoulder.

Meg’s voice comes loudly from behind the curtain above Sam’s bed. “Seconded.”

“Thirded. Those idjits know better than to try anything.” Bobby mumbles from somewhere above them, voice dangerously serious, and the bed creaks. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Castiel answers for them, startling everyone enough that even Bobby huffs a laugh. “Dean Castiel sleep now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean laughs and shuts the curtain. “We promise not to make the rest of you jealous. We’ll  sleep.”

The only answers are disgruntled grumbles and then silence. Dean flips onto his stomach and throws the blanket off of them. Castiel rolls his eyes at the request that Dean provides an image for in the kin-connection. He pulls himself higher up the bed, far enough that he can easily arch his tail up Dean’s back and over his shoulder, spreading his end-fans and brightening his natural glow to light the head the area for him to see. Leaning against Dean’s shoulder, Castiel watches him fiddle with the little knobs that stick out of the sides of the wrist-clock.

_(What are you doing?)_

_(Setting the compass. Look, you see this red hand here?)_ Dean gestures at the fourth stick, and the onlky red one, on the clock. It is pointing toward the wall at the head of the bed and no matter which direction he turns the wrist-clock, the red-hand is always pointing at the wall. _(That means that direction is North. We’re heading East, toward Africa. Right now, the islands we found you by should be South-East from our current location.)_

There are letters, numbers and lines all around the edge of the clock and Dean can actually turn it. He sets it so that the space between the E and the S above the number that is a combination of one and two. He pushes another button sticking out the side and then gives the whole thing to Castiel.  Dean instructs him to hold the wrist-clock so that the red hand points at the N.

 _(So if you ever have to leave us suddenly, you would go in the direction of the twelve. It even has a little arrow above the numbers to tell you which way to go.)_ Dean taps the top of the wrist-clock. _(The N – the red hand – should always be pointing where it is now. To that side of the ship.)_ He gestures at the wall in front of them. _(If that changes, then so has our course. We’ll know if that happens during the day, and I can get Sam to lend us this at night. If you wake up worried or have trouble sleeping, you can check this to make sure we’re going in the right direction.)_

Dean takes the wrist-clock back and sits up. He puts it over Castiel’s wrist, attaching the ends together and tightening them so it sits snugly against his skin. The whole time he explains how magnetic poles make the red hand always point toward it. Castiel sits with his back to the wall and it is directly toward at him no matter if he’s holding his hand straight out from his body or across his chest. It is, surprisingly, very reassuring to have such a small thing. He fills the kin-connection with his thanks and the warmth that swells behind his sternum at Dean’s gesture.

 _(Think you’ll be able to sleep now that you have that? No more worries?)_ Dean pulls the blanket back up and shuffles until he’s comfortable, laying on his back.

Castiel slips down, curling against Dean’s side with his head on his shoulder. He lays his arm over Dean’s chest and stares at the wrist-clock. _(Yes, I have no more worries about our course.)_ He doesn’t want to tell Dean about all the other things that he keeps thinking about.

Dean’s arm settles over his shoulders and he hooks Castiel’s tail with his foot, dragging it over his leg before Castiel gets the hint and wraps his tail around it. Satisfaction thrums through the kin-connection, wrapped in a quickly thickening fog of sleepiness.

 _(Good.)_ He presses a kiss to the top of Castiel’s head. _(Now try and get some more sleep. With all the shit you’ve been through, I don’t know how you’re not sleeping constantly.)_

 _(I will.)_ Castiel tucks closer and Dean is drifting closer and closer to being fully asleep before he asks a question that has been weighing heavily on his mind for the last few hours. _(Is it alright if I swim tomorrow? Not the whole day – just some of it.)_

His whole body jerks at the contact in the kin-connection and the sleep-fog clears slightly, enough for Castiel to catch a few curls of hesitation before Dean is aware enough to hide anything he doesn’t want him to feel. _(Yeah, Cas, of course. Whenever you want. You know you don’t have to ask. You just tell me when you wanna get off the boat or come back on. All you have to do is say it.)_

Castiel hums softly and turns his nose into the corner of Dean’s jaw. _(Thank you. After breakfast – maybe before? I prefer catching my own. If you want, I could hunt you something for lunch or supper.)_ The idea of providing for Dean and his family, of taking care of them, makes something pleasing twist in Castiel’s stomach.

Dean chuckles sleepily and his other hand rubs over Castiel’s elbow and up his forearm to the wrist-clock. _(Whatever you want, Cas. Now go to sleep.)_

He presses a kiss to Dean’s throat. _(Yes, Dean. Goodnight.)_

Another kiss to his forehead. _(Night, Cas.)_

x

It’s fun to slide through the blast of water behind the quickly rotating helicopter-blades under the boat. It’s like a too strong current and if Castiel is not prepared for it, it knocks him back. The first time he swam through it, following behind the boat, it had sent him spinning head over scales while Dean’s concern filled his thoughts.

Dean spends a lot of his time by the railing behind the swim-deck. The kin-connection is full of his amusement watching Castiel swim around the boat. Castiel’s joy is nothing but entertaining to him. He sometimes asks if Castiel will jump out of the water like dolphins do and Castiel refuses it every time. It just seems ridiculous and he isn’t a dolphin.

Castiel decided to eat in the sea that morning and Benny hadn’t looked entirely pleased when Dean had asked him to slow the boat so Castiel could keep up. He said as long as they don’t keep stopping, then it’s okay. Castiel stays within sight of the boat at all times, never going far enough that he loses the kin-connection with Dean.

Sometimes Castiel shows Dean what he sees – the schools of fish, what the boat looks like from far below it, the sea-giants Dean spots breaking the waves some distance away. Dean appreciates everything he shares.

It feels good, better than Castiel could ever describe, to stretch his muscles like he hasn’t had a chance to in more days than he cares to count. The rush of fresh water through his gills and having Dean’s thoughts and emotions in the kin-connection – it’s wonderful. All he needs is his colony and Castiel thinks everything would be perfect.

When he swims close enough to see the boat, there is often times someone standing with Dean and talking to him. There are males and females alike. It’s rarely the same person every time Castiel notices, but he does take note of a female with long yellow hair keeps showing up to speak with him. When no one is around, Dean sits in a corner by the railings and works on something. He sits so that Castiel can’t see what it is and whenever Castiel asks, he brushes the questions aside.

Dean only ever leaves the deck so he can get what explains to Castiel as ‘supplies’.

_(But what do you need the supplies for?)_

_(I’m not telling you.)_

_(Why?)_

_(It’s a surprise, Cas. I’ll tell you about it later.)_

Castiel contemplates catching one or more of the fish he passes while swimming far below the boat. It’s not long after lunch and Dean had chosen to eat what they were serving – something he called ‘mac and cheese’ – but Castiel still hasn’t eaten. _(Who is the surprise for?)_

_(Also not telling.)_

_(Does that mean it’s for me?)_

Teasing amusement curls through the kin-connection. _(I’m not answering that. Telling you if it is or isn’t would be ruining part of the surprise.)_

_(I’m very good with secrets, Dean. Who would I tell? Why won’t you tell me?)_

_(I like making surprises for other people – not so much having them myself, though. And it’s fun watching you squirm.)_

Castiel doubles back for the fish and grabs one before he catches up with the boat. _(But you can’t see me. How would you know if I’m squirming or not?)_

 _(It’s kind of like another figure of speech, Cas.)_ Dean’s laughter fills the kin-connection, even though Castiel can’t actually hear it.

He eats as he swims and he swims until he gets tired, until his tail feels heavy and his muscles ache. It’s late in the afternoon by then. Dean packs up everything that he’s doing on the back deck and puts it all away while discussing just _how_ they’re going to get Castiel out of the water. They’re not sure how to get him back on the boat without getting Benny to stop it. Castiel doesn’t want to upset him or annoy him. Dean doesn’t like the idea of trying to pull Castiel up onto the swim-deck while the boat is still moving.

_(It’s fine, Cas. I’ll just go ask Benny.)_

_(But he doesn’t like stopping.)_

_(I know, but he’ll make the exception for this – for me. We’re not stopping and starting more than once a day, so there really isn’t anything for him to complain about.)_ Dean gestures at him from the back of the boat and leaves up the stairs.

If Castiel drifts farther from the boat, peeking over the waves, he can see Dean moving on the upper deck. Benny joins him and Castiel watches them talk for a few moments before Benny moves out of sight and Dean comes back down the stairs. The boat slows significantly and Castiel waits until the helicopter-blades under it have stopped completely before he approaches the swim-deck where Dean is waiting. His top-shirt is wrapped around his cast to protect it while he helps Castiel out of the water, careful of the sword and dagger belted around his waist.

Dean had given him a belt, modified with some extra strings that he’d found around the boat to make loops he could tighten or loosen to hold his weapons in place. It was a nice surprise that Castiel had woken too, having slept in much later than Dean this morning. The belt is made of a pliable brown material that isn’t very thick, but it is roughly two finger widths wide. Sam had teased them while Dean had shown him how to work the clasp on the belt.

Once they are behind the railings the boat starts up again, engines roaring and water churning under and beyond the swim-deck. Castiel wraps his tail around Dean’s waist, looking out across the water. The sun is still high in the sky and Dean immediately carries him under the shade of the upper deck.

 _(You want to stay out here or go back to the room?)_ Dean hefts him higher, nudging his forehead into the side of Castiel’s shoulder.

He tries to keep from digging his elbows into Dean’s shoulders. _(You’re going to complain about how I’m in the sun if we stay out here, even if I’m in the shade. But what are we going to do? Read? Did you keep the book we were reading before? Have Meg and Jess been practicing?)_

Castiel looks down at Dean, at the way he’s looking up at him with a slight tilt to his head. He’s entranced by the flash of a pink tongue over a full bottom lip and Castiel’s thoughts turn heated faster than they’ve ever done before. Dean’s eyes drop to Castiel’s mouth too and he realizes that he licked his own lips. It’s disappointing that he doesn’t taste Dean on them.

A knowing grin slides into place and Dean raises an eyebrow. _(I don’t know, Cas, there’s a lot we could do. Yeah, I’ve still got the book and those two have been preparing to practice by making jello molds, of all things. I’ll have to show you some of them.)_

 _(And what have Sam and Bobby been up to?)_ He’s trying to distract himself, to keep from dipping his head and kissing Dean, of tasting those pink lips and soft tongue.

More than once today Castiel has caught himself thinking about yesterday afternoon. And every time his thoughts had slipped toward remembering the sounds Dean had breathed – gasped, cried out against his side-fan or into the curve of his neck – the muscles of his sheath twitched _hard_. Even now, just thinking about the moments when he thought of it, sends tingles racing over his skin and along his ribs. He can hardly keep his hands from sliding up into Dean’s hair, or fitting to the curve of his neck and pushing down under his shirt.

 _(Bobby’s been checking out the boat. He doesn’t like sailing on anything he hasn’t given a rundown himself.)_  Dean looks away when someone comes down the stairs. It’s a female and she hesitates, surprised that they’re standing there. She smiles, nods her head, and goes for the door.

“Oh hey, can you hold that open for us?” Dean says suddenly and Castiel’s fans flare in surprise when he starts towards the door without warning.

She smiles again and steps aside, keeping the door open for Dean to carry him through. Castiel is the one who turns the handle on the door to their room to get that door open. The females continues down the hall and goes into a different room, not looking back once. No one here stares at Castiel like everyone did on the other boat. He’s just another person to them and it’s refreshing to not be looked at like something to be studied.

 “As for Sam…” Dean tilts his head toward the other bed and Castiel twists in his arms to look. “He’s been in here all day, holed away with that stupid machine.”

Sam is laying on his stomach, a computer resting on the bed where his pillows should be. His knees are bent, feet kicking freely in the space under Meg’s bed. He gives Dean the middle finger over his shoulder. “Just because I graduated doesn’t mean I don’t have to keep studying. And I’m checking out everything that has to do with the sinking.”

Dean carefully lowers Castiel to the bed, continuing to translate through the kin-connection while Sam keeps talking. “Apparently an S.O.S. was put out the moment the attack hit. Someone picked up the survivors by morning. There hasn’t be a single word about Castiel, which is good. But one of the people that was interviewed was Gordon, and that got me thinking.”

Sam looks over at them. “Jess said the scans showed only one chip – the one in your neck – but it could be a double. Gordon’s smart, and he’s asshole enough to come after us – _you –_ for everything that happened. If the thing in your neck is a tracker too, Gordon could follow it. I don’t know our timeframe for how fast he’ll act, but we should get it out as soon as possible.”

Castiel flares his fans unhappily. Gordon never posed much of a threat when Alistair wasn’t around, but Sam doesn’t look pleased with this revelation and Dean doesn’t either. The kin-connection is full of his irritation and his shoulders are set in a hard line. He relaxes when Castiel curls his tail around his waist and his hand drops over his scales, fingers rubbing absently at the adipose of his end-fans.

Dean sighs, rubbing at his face. “Fuck. Do you have any idea how Jess and Meg are doing with the practicing? Last I heard they were driving the kitchen staff crazy by confiscating all the jello and taking up a ridiculous amount of fridge space.”

“That’s you subtly asking me to go see if they’ve started practicing or not.” Sam narrows his eyes and Castiel looks between them both. Dean is making an expression, a kind of smirk, that Castiel has seen countless times on the faces of his older brothers. “You’re going to lock the door the moment I step outside, aren’t you? Dude, I know your memory isn’t _that_ bad. I told you last night that we _share_ this room, you jerk.”

Laughing, Dean holds up his hands. “I didn’t say anything about that. Did I, Cas?”

Castiel is confused and he looks between them again. They were just discussing something they were unhappy about and now they’re both smiling and Sam is shaking his head while he stands up. He gives them both a stern look before he leaves the room, ensuring that the door stays open.

Dean winks at Castiel and raises his voice. “But now that Sam went and put that idea in my head – what do you think, Cas?”

“DEAN.” Sam’s yell echoes down the hall before Dean reaches over and gives the door enough of a push that it swings shut. There’s a muffled shout before Dean doubles over and starts laughing.

 _(It’s very interesting to watch you two interact.)_ Castiel pulls the pillow under his chest to prop himself up, tilting his head while he looks at Dean.

_(Jess said the same thing the first time she hung out with the both of us. Although, I’m pretty sure she used different words.)_

_(What words?)_

_(Something along the lines of “You’re both insane. What have I gotten myself into? I need to get out while I still can.”)_ Dean shoves Castiel over, forcing him to unwrap and make room for him on the bed. _(Of course that was only a few weeks after I got out of prison and for some reason we thought it would be a good idea to take a couple of cases of beer out to the nearest park and build a bonfire. By the time we tried to start the fire we were piss drunk and we nearly lit up Sam and half the park. Jess lost her eyebrows and I think there are actually still a few scorch marks on baby’s bumper. We had to burn rubber to get out of there before the cops showed up too.)_

The memory replays, distorted and made hazy by everything that Dean had been drinking the night that it happened. The only other time Castiel has felt Dean’s mind like this is was when he had his nightmare and had the amber drink. Once the memory is gone, Dean’s thoughts are clear again and Castiel likes it much better when they’re not muddled or feel wrong.

 _(I’m surprised we didn’t bring that up last night.)_ Dean tugs at the pillow and Castiel jerks it out of his grip, hugging it tighter. He could easily share, but he likes how Dean narrows his eyes and a competitive edge lines his thoughts. _(You ever do anything stupid with your brothers?)_

Castiel twists, putting his shoulder between Dean and the pillow. _(We once went to the light-beds to get a shine-stone for Anna. That was pretty stupid.)_

Dean tries reaching over him and Castiel flares his back fans to stop him. _(Please, that’s child’s play, Cas. I’m talking about_ really _stupid. Like, nearly setting your brother on fire stupid.)_

 _(Not really. Gabriel once thought it would be a fun prank to hide pieces of meat in a cache of kelp so the weavers were swarmed by fish looking for an easy meal.)_ Castiel shrugs and tries to cover the pillow with his body.

_(There’s really not a whole lot of time for what things you’re asking about, not when there is a war going on that puts our very way of life in danger. And before that there were other things to focus on. There’s food to catch and store for the colony; metals to be mined from the cliff walls and made into our weapons; tending the kelp forests; harvesting the kelp to braid into ropes and belts; new sleep shelves or storage caves to carve out. There’s training and guard duty, reconnaissance, teaching the lessons that keep us alive to the young ones. We have fun where we can, but there’s no time for acting stupid.)_

The slight wrestling over the pillow stops and Dean looks surprised. _(Don’t you guys ever just have a day off or something?)_

_(Not really. We don’t have the same kind of environment as you do, Dean. We don’t have walls and doors with locks to keep things that would hurt us out. We don’t have food provided for us. Everything that we do is to survive.)_

Dean props his cheek on his fist, looking at Castiel sideways. _(I didn’t really think that you had it so different from us. How do you do it?)_

_(It’s how I’ve always done it. How do you handle having so much free time?)_

_(We’ve got shit that eats up time. Reading books, watching TV, surfing the internet, hobbies. Don’t you have any hobbies?)_

Castiel shrugs and relinquishes part of the pillow. They share it, facing one another. _(I don’t see the point of collecting things and making trinkets seems frivolous, unnecessary. Most of the work is mindless and I don’t know, I just… sing?)_

_(So you’re living to survive, but you’re not really living? I mean, I’m not dissing how you live your life – but you’re making it sound like you’re going through the motions.)_

_(I do what I must for the good of the colony.)_

_(But what about what’s good for_ you _?)_ Dean reaches up and drags light touches along the spines of Castiel’s side-fan.

He shrugs again, flaring his fan into Dean’s hand. _(The colony is good for me. Outsiders, nomads and loners don’t live long. Being alone in the deeps is insanity, and there’s safety in numbers. We’ve survived for countless generations like this. Why would I want to change any of that just so I’m entertained? I’ve never found what I do boring.)_

Dean’s hand moves to Castiel’s neck, thumb brushing over the scales lining his gills and briefly pressing against the mark he made. There’s something hopeful curling along the edges of Dean’s thoughts and Castiel finds it confusing. _(But you’re happy there, right?)_

_(It’s where my family is. It’s my home.)_

_(That’s not a ‘yes’. I wanna know that you’re going to be happy, Cas. If I have to give you up, I gotta know you’re gonna be happy.)_ Dean’s fingers slide down Castiel’s arm and he inches forward, pressing closer until their noses are brushing. _(Are you going to be happy?)_

Castiel closes his eyes, closes his mind to Dean and he thinks. He thinks over his daily life in the colony, the memories he has of playing with his nest-siblings while they were growing up. He remembers the songs of his kin filling his head and the heart stopping exhilaration of battle. There are many things back home that make him happy, and there are some that don’t. It’s the same as being here. There are many things that make him unhappy, but then there’s Dean. And he makes Castiel happy.

Curiosity and concern push at the walls around his mind. _(Cas?)_

There’s no way to answer from behind the walls around his mind without Dean noticing or thinking that he’s lying. He would be lying if he was to say that he would be completely happy at home. Castiel drops the walls and leans in, kissing Dean softly. _(Yes, Dean. I will be happy.)_

He hopes Dean doesn’t catch the dishonesty that marks his answer as being only part of the truth.

Dean doesn’t say anything and the kin-connection is silent, even the warmth that always flows between them is gone. It’s terrifying and makes his insides churn. Castiel opens his eyes again and Dean is looking at him steadily, expression unreadable. It’s Castiel’s turn to pulse curious concern against the edges of his mind. He curls closer, folding his tail over Dean’s legs and touching his jaw lightly.

_(Wasn’t that the answer you wanted to hear?)_

_(It was.)_

Worry burns in his chest, making his stomach twist in knots. _(Then what’s wrong?)_

 _(Nothing.)_ Dean shakes his head like he’s shaking something off and a small, strained smile forces onto his lips. The walls break open and the warmth floods back into the kin-connection, but there’s a sad pull to it that barely alleviates the anxiety squeezing around his lungs. _(It’s okay. As long as you’re going to be happy, that’s all that matters.)_

But it’s not the same. Something has changed and Castiel doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know what to ask, what to say or do and it’s scaring him. Dean sighs and presses their foreheads together. He doesn’t say anything either but he’s not pulling away. If anything, Dean draws him closer. Close enough for him to sling his arm over Castiel’s back, pinning his fans.

A tentative knock at the door interrupts anything either of them might have said.

“It’s safe.” Dean calls over his shoulder.

Sam pokes his head into the room, a hand over his eyes. He takes an exaggerated sniff. “Well, it doesn’t smell like sex. You’re decent?”

“Fully clothed – except for Cas. But then again, he’s always naked.” Dean raises his eyebrow and looks at Castiel. “Aren’t you?”

“Clothing stupid.” Castiel mumbles and Dean laughs, but the amusement in the kin-connection isn’t like before. Not even his laugh sounds the same.

There’s a soft brush of lips against his own before Dean pulls away and sits up to face Sam. “So, what did they say?”

“All the molds are set. They tried to string things through the jello to simulate nerves and muscles. They were going to start practicing but they got kicked out of the kitchen because of dinner. Wait until Ellen finds out that they want to take one of her prep tables to practice and perform the actual operation on.” Sam slumps onto his bed, flopping over at an angle so he can keep his feet on the ground. “Meg convinced Crowley to let them use his room since it’s got the biggest spaces. You’ll probably want to be there, won’t you, Dean? We’ll need the room so we don’t crowd them. And Benny has promised to to stop the boat so we’re only rocking gently instead of breaking over the waves.”

Relief rolls through the kin-connection and Dean turns a grin to Castiel. This one is more normal and it makes the knot of unease in his chest loosen slightly. Dean is still touching Castiel like he usually does, his hand rubbing over his hip and fingers playing with his adipose fins.

“That’s awesome, Sammy. Thanks for looking into that for me. Now, who the hell is Ellen?”

“Head of the kitchen. I bet if you got her to warm up to you, you’d be able to convince her to make some pie for you. You already have a way in, since you know her daughter.”

Dean looks at him sharply. “I do?”

“You talked to her a half dozen times today. I could hear you through the doors. I think her name is Jo?” Sam continues while he stuffs a pillow under his head and balances the computer on his chest. “She helps out in the kitchen, but apparently both her and Ellen were a part of the raid on Lilith’s boat. Looks like they’ve got some training – just like everyone else on this boat. It’s like a tiny militia.”

Castiel sits up quickly, grabbing Dean’s arm and digging his fingers in while his fans flare. _(You’re translation – that means we’re surrounded by soldiers?)_

 _(Yeah, but it’s okay. They’re the good guys, remember? They pulled our asses outta the frying pan.)_ Dean covers his hand with his own, squeezing lightly. _(Don’t worry, we’ve got weapons of our own and we’re close to the water. We can get you overboard before anyone gets the jump on us. We’ve got our asses covered, Cas.)_

He relaxes marginally, fans closing slowly. Dean pries his hand from his arm and pulls him against his side. There’s still something _off_ in the kin-connection, but everything else is almost normal again when Dean presses a kiss to the base of his side-fan. There’s a brief wash of tongue over the scales over his cheeks and Castiel ducks out of reach in deference to Sam, although his tail still wraps over Dean’s hips and his end-fans flare across his lap.

Dean grins at him and Castiel rubs his cheek against his shoulder to wipe away the wet swipe of his tongue. Sam may not be looking at them right now, but it wouldn’t do well for Castiel to kiss Dean, not when he can’t guarantee he’ll be able to stop. Even though he really wants to. He wants to kiss Dean and wipe away the remainder of the worry still tugging lightly at his ribs.

He wants to act on the thoughts he’s been having all day, but he can’t with Sam right here. Castiel doesn’t want anyone seeing Dean with his head thrown back, his spine bowed, his skin damp and shiny with salt sweat while his hips roll, as a litany of sounds better than any song Castiel has ever heard fall from his lips.

 _(Do you know that these –)_ Dean touches Castiel’s side-fan, thumb brushing along the webbing. _(– get really twitchy when you start thinking about sex?)_

Castiel tries to stop the purr that starts to rumble in his chest, but it gets louder the moment Dean’s fingers start rubbing purposefully behind his side-fans. Dean pulls him in again and this time the kiss lands on the corner of his mouth. He tries to turn away but Dean is like the magnets he explained last night. Castiel can’t pull away from the press of his lips or the curl of his tongue.

“Dude, I am _right here_!”

Dean hums in acknowledgment against Castiel’s mouth, keeping him from pulling away with a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck while he fumbles at his clothes with the other. Castiel finds Dean’s hand, trying to get him to stop. If he’s trying to remove his clothing then he needs to stop because they will _not_ do anything like that where anyone can see what Dean is like while Castiel is touching him.

 _(Whatever you’re up to, you need to stop.)_ Castiel tugs at Dean’s wrist. _(You’re the one who said not while there are others in the room.)_

 _(Just a second –)_ Dean shakes his hands away and gives a particularly hard bite to Castiel’s bottom lip, drawing a sharp gasp out of him and an annoyed remark from Sam. _(Just a minute.)_

Castiel stifles a groan at a suck to his tongue. Dean doesn’t stop until Castiel can barely breathe, until he’s gasping for breath around every slip-slide of their mouths. He’s left floundering when Dean finally does draw away. The beep-click of a phone taking a picture is too familiar and Castiel opens his eyes to more of that sound.

“I swear to God if you did all that while I’m right here just so you could get material for your spank bank, Dean, I am going to throw you overboard and tell Benny to _gun it_.” Sam hisses unhappily.

But Dean is practically radiating satisfaction as he starts going through the new pictures on his phone. “I’ve been wanting to get one of you like this for ages.”

Castiel rests his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, trying to center himself and ignore the way his sheath muscles are twitching. He is certain he must be at least half, if not fully, hard inside his sheath and the moment Castiel gets the chance, he will make Dean _pay_ for this. Dean only laughs when Castiel conveys the sentiment and he’s very tempted to bite him purely as a reprimand.

“Jesus, Dean!” Sam grumbles several more curses. “As if sharing a motel room with you while growing up wasn’t bad enough, now I’ve got to deal with this shit.”

Dean seems far too pleased with himself to care what Sam is saying. He tilts the phone for Castiel to see and it’s an expression Dean has shown him before through the kin-connection. Castiel makes an annoyed noise, pushing Dean’s hand away.

_(Now isn’t the time to replace the pictures you lost. Especially with Sam here and I can’t touch you.)_

_(Oh, you can still touch. Sam usually clears out by the time my pants come undone.)_ Dean is almost humming as he taps away at the phone. _(And the only picture I have to replace is that one I took when we were reading.)_

Castiel leans into his side again, adipose fins rippling at the idea of chasing Sam from the room and getting to have Dean again. _(But Lilith said that you threw the phone into small-sea.)_

 _(Yeah, but I copied everything when I was messing around with the phone per Meg’s instructions.)_ Dean thumps his heel against the guitar case under the bed. _(I had to ‘borrow’ one of Sam and Jess’s USB drives from one of the drawers – fucking lucky that I found it – and put all the… Are you even understanding any of this?)_

_(You still have the pictures and the videos because you took them from the phone and put them on something you call a USB drive.)_

Dean presses a kiss to his cheek again. _(Hell yes, you’ve got it! I’m proud of you.)_

“Don’t you dare start up again.”

“You could always leave.” Dean replies casually, putting his phone away. “Let me and Cas have some good ol’ alone time. You’re making him suffer, y’know.”

“I’ve been suffering at the mercy of your libido since you were sixteen, you jerk!” Sam closes the computer and sits up. “I lost count of how many girls you brought back to the motels and I had to go sit in the car or risk mental scarring.”

Dean tilts his head and the kin-connection grows heated along the edges. He purposefully starts running his hand over the end of Castiel’s tail. “Bitch, if you think the vanilla stuff I was doing back then was scarring then you really don’t want to know about what Cas can do with his–”

Castiel isn’t expecting the pillow to his face and it nearly knocks him over.

“Shit! I was aiming for Dean, sorry!” Sam winces and Castiel glances down at the pillow now resting in his lap. “I can’t throw properly in this tiny space.”

A snort is the only warning they get before Dean breaks down in laughter that nearly causes him to slide from the bed. Castiel isn’t entirely sure what he finds so funny. Sam isn’t laughing and he keeps making gestures at Castiel with motions that even he can figure out. Dean’s laughter breaks off into a startled grunt when Castiel smacks him with the pillow and this time it’s Sam who starts laughing.

Dean looks incredulously between them both. _(You just – I can’t believe – you’re on_ his _side?)_

Castiel tilts his head once, regarding the both of them before he smacks Dean with the pillow again. _(That’s for riling me up just to take a picture.)_

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” Dean makes a grab for his pillow and Castiel twists out of reach, tightening his tail to keep Dean from moving. “Gimme a pillow, Cas. This means business. Sammy, you move for the other pillow and I will take you down. You know damn well that I am the _king_ of pillow fights.”

Sam holds up his hands, donning quite possibly the most perfect picture of innocence Castiel has ever seen. “I wouldn’t dream of challenging your crown.”

While Dean isn’t looking, Castiel swings the pillow again.

By the time Jess and Meg return to the room, Sam has claimed the top beds as his territory and is sequestered on Bobby’s bed where he throws bundles of socks he liberated from the drawers. If Dean gets within reach, Sam swings two pillows – one in each hand. Dean is hanging upside down, his legs on Sam’s bed and his back on the floor. Castiel’s tail is twined around his chest and he is almost sitting on him to hold him in place. Even though Castiel has two pillows and Dean only has the one, Dean is putting up a very good fight.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You poor thing, you’re marrying into a family of children.”

Castiel looks up at them, fans flared with the adrenaline of this mock battle. Stopping earns him another pillow to the face. He retaliates by thumping one of his pillow down over Dean’s head and holding it there. _(Do you surrender?)_

_(King Dean will never admit defeat!)_

_(I suggest you surrender. It’s in the best interest of your lungs.)_

Dean’s laughter is muffled through the pillow. _(You nearly had a panic attack over giving me a little bite. You sure as hell aren’t going to let me suffocate.)_

_(True. But there is something that I will be much better at. If you do not surrender, I can promise you that I won’t let you touch me until I see fit to allow it again.)_

Silence. Too long of a silence.

“Castiel, I think you’ve killed him.” Jess touches his shoulder. “It’s safe to say that you’ve won.”

“King Dean hasn’t lost yet!” Dean shouts through the pillow. _(You won’t be able to keep to that.)_

 _(I lived for – what was it in your time again, twenty-eight years – without physical gratification. It will be difficult, but I’m sure I’ll manage.)_ It’s a complete lie. Castiel can’t keep himself from touching Dean if he’s within reach. But with the walls he has up in the kin-connection to keep Dean from sensing his next movements during the pillow-battle, Dean can’t exactly tell if Castiel is speaking the truth or not.

The kin-connection trembles with contemplation and several emotions that vary between horror and disbelief.

“I yield.” Dean throws his arms out to the side, tossing his pillow out of reach.

Castiel lifts the pillow and Dean takes a deep, overly dramatic breath. He throws his pillows back onto their respective beds and looks up at Meg and Jess, proud and pleased. “King Castiel.”

“Dean lost the moment he turned his back to steal our bed.” Sam jumps down from Bobby’s bed. “I may have had the monopoly on sock bombs, but Cas is freaking _lethal_ with those pillows. I couldn’t come down off the beds without having my legs knocked out from under me.”

“It’s awesome. You should’ve seen him go.” Dean sits up, sliding back on the floor until he can settle against Castiel chest. _(I’ve held that title for over a decade, Cas. Wear it well while you can, because I_ will _get it back.)_

 _(You’re welcome to try.)_ Castiel rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder and winds his arms around him. His tail is curled awkwardly around Dean’s hip and stretched down over his legs. _(For having a handicap, you fought very well.)_

He pats Castiel’s hands, tilting his head to press their cheeks together. _(Yeah, well, a broken arm has never stopped me before.)_

“You could help clean up, you know.” Sam mumbles, pushing Dean’s feet out of the way to pick up some of the socks.

“You’re the one who brought the bombs into the mix. You can pick them up yourself, Sammy.” Dean sounds too smug and Sam shoots him a dirty look before he continues cleaning under the strict supervision of Meg and Jess.

“It would be easier if you big ass wasn’t taking up half the floor.”

“You take that back! My ass is a fine piece of work and if you’re not careful I’ll get Cas to attest to it with actual _memories_ in the kin-connection!”

Sam makes a horrified noise and he stops his cleaning to pull Jess close and bury his face against her shoulder. “I take it back, I take it back! I never want to see it again, please don’t make me see it again!”

“Dear God, it’s like I’ve regressed to junior high.” Meg sighs, laying down on Jess and Sam’s bed . “We spent all day doing jello molds like it was Home Economics again. You’re all insane and I want a nap.”

“Well, I think Bobby and Benny are bringing us supper again. After that, we can take an early night, if you’d like. It’s been another long day for everyone – especially you, Castiel.” Jess smiles down at him while she pets Sam’s hair absently. Castiel gets the impression that Jess has more experience in situations similar to this than he knows. “You were swimming all day. I don’t know how you still had the energy to rough house with these two.”

Dean grins and Castiel can feel the words in the kin-connection before they reach his tongue. He claps a hand over Dean’s mouth to keep them from ever reaching the air. _(With Sam’s current state, I don’t believe it’s wise to mention my stamina.)_

_(Spoil sport.)_

_(As the youngest of six siblings, I sympathize with Sam. Besides, my sexual endurance isn’t even comparable to my swimming endurance.)_

He snorts behind Castiel’s hand and the others are looking at them oddly. _(Well you’re making progress in leaps and bounds, Cas. I’d even go so far as to give you a ‘B plus’. You’ll get an ‘A’ if you manage to make me come without touching me.)_

_(Where would be the pleasure in that?)_

Dean laughs again and pushes Castiel’s hand away. _(I meant my dick, Cas. You’d have to fuck me so good that you’d make me come without touching me.)_

It seems an impossible task, but a swooping sensation flips through his gut at the thought. Castiel squeezes his arms around Dean’s waist. _(I want to try that. When can we try that?)_

He’s too focused on the heat from Dean’s body to care much about what Jess or Sam are talking about now, and Meg looks like she’s almost fallen asleep on the bed that doesn’t belong to her.

_(Another time, maybe.)_

_(When?)_ Castiel presses his nose under Dean’s ear, brushing gentle kisses to the soft skin. _(When can I have you again, Dean?)_

Anticipation curls through the kin-connection and Dean shifts slightly. He’s watching Sam and Jess sort the socks, figuring out which pairs belongs in which drawer. Dean jerks almost violently when Castiel drags his tongue along the shell of his ear and his fingers tighten over the hands around his waist.

 _(Jesus, don’t do that! I’m_ thinking _.)_

 _(Consider it incentive to think faster.)_ Castiel gently rakes his teeth over the back of Dean’s neck, pulsing warmth and want into the kin-connection. _(You got me worked up with that kiss earlier and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about yesterday. Now you went and mentioned something like_ that _. You’ve teased me enough today, Dean. I want you.)_

Dean stifles a groan, hiding it under a cough when Sam glances over, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Castiel smells the food before Benny and Bobby actually arrive. They have the stacked trays again and Dean has sit beside Castiel so they both have room for their food. The funny stories and laughter start up again not long after they begin eating.

But Dean is thinking more heated thoughts than the lighthearted conversations. They’re a heavy distraction in the kin-connection, searing along the edges of Castiel’s mind. _(After dinner we’ll go and take a shower. If we put some towels on the floors, then my knees - or my back – will be just fine.)_


	32. Validation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel leans heavily into Dean’s side, enjoying the weight of his arm around his shoulders despite the hard edge of the cast. _(Are we boyfriends?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: msmerc, mishakaleins, sassygaydean,
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

If Castiel didn’t know any better, if he couldn’t feel the irritation and the want through the kin-connection, he would think that Dean is purposefully dragging out the length of the dinner. Dean keeps shifting as if he is impatient. They finished eating awhile ago and the empty trays are stacked next to the door beside Benny.

Everyone just keeps talking to Dean, and to him through Dean. And Castiel isn’t enjoying the current topic of discussion. They keep speaking about what they plan to do when they get home and it is not a conversation that he wishes to have. And they keep mistaking his lack of contribution as weariness instead of seeing it for what it really is. The conversation is everything Castiel doesn’t want to think about. Even though he is curious to learn about what Dean will do after he has finally returned to the colony, it still hurts to think about it.

A sharp pain twists in his chest to think about Dean being without him. He knows what Dean was like before him, and there’s every chance that Dean will be the same afterward, that he’ll find someone else once he is home again. It makes Castiel’s stomach turn. It’s hard to swallow or breathe around the tightness in his throat whenever he thinks of someone else touching Dean, of someone else having him in all the ways that Castiel gets to have him – and in all the ways that he can’t.

Whenever the question is turned on Dean he never gives a straight answer. He deflects it by going into a rant about how much he misses his ‘baby’ and someone is always quick to interrupt. Otherwise they  all have to listen to Dean go on and on endlessly about ‘body work’ and ‘engines’. Hearing it once was more than enough. Sam keeps talking about getting something called a ‘dog’ and he makes wide, pleading eyes at Jess every time he speaks of it. She only shakes her head, laughs, and never gives a proper answer. Castiel refrains from giving his opinion on the matter of pets.

Everything segues into Benny explaining how he was released from prison only a few months after Dean and it is because of his experience with sailing and captaining boats that he was hired by Crowley. It was one of the first jobs he applied to once he had his freedom and it was  surprising that he got it, especially because of his time in prison. Benny tells them about how he didn’t get to spend as much time with his ‘girlfriend’ as he would have liked before he had to leave so they could intercept Lilith’s boat, and that he’s thinking of asking her to marry him.

 _(What does ‘girlfriend’ mean?)_ Castiel pushes curiosity at Dean.

His response includes what ‘boyfriends’ are. The concept is not so far off from what Castiel knows. Many fin-kin are exclusive with each other before either becoming bond-mates or deciding to share a shelf and have a nest together. And then there are still the kind of fin-kin who don’t take a permanent mate at all.

_(Yeah, there’s a lot of humans like that too.)_

Castiel leans heavily into Dean’s side, enjoying the weight of his arm around his shoulders despite the hard edge of the cast. _(Are we boyfriends?)_

Dean makes a surprised noise and everyone glances at him, interrupting Benny’s explanation about what he did that got him put in prison. As far as Castiel can tell, it involves something about taking many things that do not belong to him. Dean waves them off and tilts his head toward Castiel. As if that motion explains everything, the conversation picks up where it left off. He waits for an answer, glancing repeatedly at Dean and privately worrying about the sudden silence laying thick in the kin-connection.

 _(We’re –)_ Dean starts and stops, frowning down at his lap where Castiel’s tail curls over his legs. _(We’re more complicated than that. Being ‘boyfriends’ doesn’t usually come with an expiration date.)_

He ignores the twinge between his ribs. _(Then what are we?)_

Dean’s irritation increases and he shifts again, his fingers digging into Castiel’s shoulder. _(Us. We’re just ‘us’. We don’t need to be anything else but that. Why do you want to label what this is?)_

 _(I don’t.)_ Castiel  twists, turning into Dean’s side and pressing his cheek to his shoulder. _(You humans have names for everything. I was only curious to see if there was one for us. I –)_

“Are you tired, Castiel?”

Annoyed that he is interrupted, Castiel lifts his head and looks at Jess. There’s concern in the lines of her face. “If you’re sleepy, we can move our conversation elsewhere and anyone who’s tired can finally go to bed.”

Meg makes a grumbling sound that Castiel thinks might be approval. She relocated to her own bed not long after she finished eating and has been sleepily answering questions or providing commentary from above their heads. Dean’s fingers press in reminder against the adipose of his end-fans, thumb stroking over the scaled end of his tail.

Castiel acknowledges the touch and curls his fingers in Dean’s shirt where his hand rest on his other side. “Not tired. Dry.”

“He wants a shower.” Dean says, and it isn’t a complete lie. He starts to pull away, drawing his legs up to stand. “Cas likes showers better than he does the spray bottles, and I’ve got to brush up for bed anyways. If anyone needs to use the bathroom, you better go now.”

Benny picks up the trays as he stands. “I’ll take these back to the kitchen, then. I’ve got some drink in my bunk if anyone cares to join me for a night cap.”

“Oh, that sounds nice!” Jess pats Sam’s leg. “Let’s go have a drink. I don’t feel ready for bed yet!”

Castiel watches them all get up. He curls his tail out of the way of the many feet as Bobby leaves with Sam and Jess, following Benny from the room. They all say their goodnights to Meg and she waves them off before shutting the curtain around her bed. Dean hands Castiel his bathroom kit and lifts him to the bed. It’s easier for Dean to get his arms under him from the bed than it is the floor.

Meg speaks from behind her curtain. “Just because I’m going to be sleeping when you get back doesn’t mean that you’re allowed to fuck if the others aren’t here.”

Dean laughs and lifts Castiel higher, settling him more comfortably against his chest. “What do you think the shower is for?”

Her groans and mumbles are lost behind the door when Dean hooks it with his foot to pull it shut behind them. The bathroom door is closed when they reach it and Dean leans against the opposite wall while they wait.

Castiel nudges his nose into the space under Dean’s ear. _(Are you still upset about my question?)_

 _(No.)_ Dean laughs, tilting his head away from the rub of Castiel’s stubble against his neck. _(There’re just some things that I don’t want to think about.)_

Something burns in Castiel’s chest. It’s warm and satisfying, but still a little painful. Does Dean not like thinking about leaving him as much as he does? Does Dean feel like him? Does he want to return to his home, but not lose Castiel too?

He tightens his arms around Dean’s shoulders and ignores the warning that is pulsed into the kin-connection. Even with the quiet scolding, Dean doesn’t turn his head from the sucking kisses Castiel presses to the side of neck and the curve of his jaw. His fingers dig against Castiel’s scales and his side.

Castiel has to stop when a door opens. It’s not the same bathroom door as the one that they went into before. This one is on the other side of the hall, on the same side as the wall that Dean is leaning against. Dean explains through stuttered thoughts that it’s because there are two bathrooms on the hall and that it would be troublesome to have only one for the few dozen people currently on board. Even only having two is annoying.

 _(If it wasn’t getting so late, we probably wouldn’t be doing this – tying up a bathroom for who knows how long.)_ Dean nods at the male that comes out of the room and steps in after he’s out of the way. He kicks the door shut and Castiel immediately fixes his mouth to Dean’s skin again.

Dean stumbles to the ledge with the sink and he sets Castiel on it. Castiel lets go of him long enough to fumble the kit from where it is pinned to his stomach by the fold of his tail. Not once does he pull his mouth from the side of Dean’s neck. He doesn’t break from that until he’s certain a new mark has been sucked into his skin.

“Cas –” Dean starts, only to be silenced by insistent kisses.

Castiel pushes the top shirt from Dean’s shoulders. He curls his tail around his hips to keep him from pulling away. Dean wants to get the shower started and pull the towels from their shelves to lay them on the floor. He wants to get straight to business and his thoughts push through the kin-connection but Dean still holds him by his sides just as hard as Castiel is holding his shoulders. Dean tastes his tongue and rubs his growing erection against the side of Castiel’s tail where it’s pressed against his front.

He rakes his fingers down Dean’s back, loving how Dean arches against his chest. Castiel’s hands find the end of Dean’s shirt and push up under it. Dean hums and hisses against his mouth with every drag of Castiel’s blunt claws up his sides, palms sliding over smooth skin – except for the rough scar marring his left hip. He traces the raised edge, amused by how Dean jerks under the gentle touch.

Dean slaps his hands away and breaks from the kisses despite Castiel’s displeased growl. He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before he leans back in. His hands fall to Castiel’s tail, thumbs brushing scales again.

 _(Let me set up, Cas.)_ Dean pulls away when Castiel leans forward for more kisses. _(I don’t particularly like fucking on the bathroom floor, but if you let me get everything set out, then we can do even more than just this. You want more, don’t you?)_

He always seems to ask the most ridiculous questions. Of course Castiel wants more. Castiel always wants more than just kisses and touches. He wants all of Dean; his mind, his body, his heart – everything. He relinquishes his hold, uncurling his tail as Dean moves him to the floor.

Dean takes down all the towels from their shelves and starts placing them on the floor in front of the door to the shower. He leaves them folded so that they’re kept thick to make a good cushion. Castiel watches from where he’s sitting, contemplating how he’s going to have Dean this time. He doesn’t bother hiding those thoughts from the kin-connection. He shares them openly and Dean even offers a few suggestions of his own.

He opens the shower door and reaches in to turn on the water. _(Alright, in you go. Get soaked up while I undress and get ready.)_

Castiel pull-pushes himself across the floor. He tries not to mess up the towels as he slips in under the spray of the shower. The water is cool on his heated skin and scales. From there he watches Dean shed the rest of his clothing and gets something from the bathroom kit that Castiel had abandoned to the floor. He gathers his clothing and settles facing Castiel on the makeshift bed of towels, the bottle of lube in one hand. 

When he leans out of the shower to reach for the bottle, Dean holds it away. Castiel fills the kin-connection with confusion, annoyed when Dean pushes him back. Dean puts a condom next to the towels and bundles his clothing behind him, like a pillow, when he lays down.

 _(How about you just watch for now?)_ Dean grins at him, eyebrows raised as he looks down the length of his body. He spreads his knees and lifts his hips from the floor.

Castiel’s fans snap wide, his back-fans hitting the wall. His fingers twitch as Dean coats his own with the slippery jelly of the lube and starts to touch himself in all the ways that Castiel has before - how he wants to now. But the most that Dean allows him to touch is his legs. If Castiel tries for anything, he warns that he’ll stop. Dean twitches whenever Castiel leans out of the water spray to press his mouth along his legs. He touches Dean with lips or tongue, and a few times the warning press of teeth when Dean’s reprimands for getting too close annoy him.

“Dean.” His name comes out closer to a growl than Castiel intended, but Dean’s fingers stop pushing, rubbing, stretching. Dean sucks in a sharp breath and his hips twitch. Castiel leans out of the shower more, hands running over Dean’s legs. _(I don’t want to wait anymore.)_

Once his hands reach his hips, Castiel pulls Dean closer and the towels slide on the sleek floor. _(I am tired of watching.)_

 _(Cas –)_ Dean moves his hand and he grips Castiel’s wrists almost painfully. Desire fills the kin-connection; a trembling song of _wantneedyesplease_ as Dean’s hips roll when he meets the raised edge of the glass-door’s frame on the floor. Alarm flickers through their link. _(Cas, I’m not ready yet.)_

He ghosts his hands over Dean’s thighs, fingers twitching in time with the muscles of his sheath. _(I’m well aware. I’ve been watching closely. Pass me the bottle and I will finish preparing you.)_

Dean fumbles for both it and the condom. He shoves the bottle into Castiel’s waiting hand and moments later he pushes one finger into him. He’s already prepared enough that he can easily push in a second, and a third into him. As much Castiel enjoys having the shower’s water on his back, he wishes they were on a bed. The shower is too confining and he can’t stretch his tail in here. And he knows that Dean isn’t comfortable on his makeshift bed of towels, with his pillow made of his clothing.

At least this time Dean won’t be above him. This time Castiel gets to be the one to move. Dean got to do all the work yesterday and now it’s Castiel’s turn. Now he gets to do what he wants, and he wants Dean in a position where Castiel can flare his fans. He wants to show Dean that he is a capable mate.

Touching Dean, working him open with his fingers and forcing a myriad of noises from his throat, gives Castiel the final push he needs. His penis unsheathes and he growls softly against Dean’s hip, pausing in the process of sucking a new mark into his skin.

“Jesus – fuck, Cas – stop –” Dean groans and pushes his fingers through Castiel’s hair when he lowers his head again to lick at the crease of his inner thigh. “I’m ready. Just – lemme get the condom on you – shit, stop already!”

Castiel pulls away, sitting back on the curl of his tail. He’s careful as he removes his fingers and he hisses quietly when Dean touches him. Dean’s fingers curl and tease, rubbing at the head of his slit while he rolls the condom over Castiel’s erection. He smoothes another handful of the slippery jelly over it and strokes him slowly as he leans in for surprisingly slow kisses.

 _(How do you want me, Cas?)_ Dean asks and the question sears through the kin-connection, burning under Castiel’s skin as he licks into Dean’s mouth and tastes all that he can.

There are too many ways that he wants to have Dean, and there is only one thing that he really wants right now. He runs his hands over Dean’s shoulders and chest, thumbs circling his nipples and earning him a pleased groan. He drags his tongue and lips along Dean’s jaw to his ear, dipping his tongue in and nipping lightly at the fleshy bottom.

 _(I want to see it.)_ He flares his fans and his adipose fins ripple as he touches him. _(I want to see what it looks like when I enter you.)_

“Fuck.” Dean breathes against his side-fan. “Don’t say it like that.” He pulls away sharply and turns, settling on his knees and elbows. _(Just – go slow.)_

The breath is stolen from his lungs and Castiel’s ribs tingle hot-cold. He runs his hands over Dean’s back, rising up onto the bend of his tail to get to the position that he needs. Castiel shares what he sees with Dean and Dean guides him through what he needs to do, even as his own thoughts are heavy with anticipation.

There’s that little bit of resistance at the first push again. When it gives way and he slips in, Dean’s strangled gasp is muffled by the makeshift clothing-pillow. Castiel rocks slowly, pushing in only as deep as he can until the kin-connection flickers with Dean’s quiet requests to stop. He can’t look away from how Dean opens around him, or the way the ring of muscles catches against the raised line of bumps on his penis when he pushes in or pulls out.

Yesterday Castiel had been swept up in the want, the need, to feel Dean like this. After his dream he had been almost desperate to have that. He couldn’t get himself to focus then like he can now. It’s like a battle calm has settled in his mind. As much as he wants this now, as much as he’s feeling the heat of Dean under him and around him while his head is full of the warmth that Dean pulses with every breath, his thoughts are completely clear.

He loses himself in watching it all, the in-out slide and the way the muscles in Dean’s back stretch and roll as he rocks back against Castiel’s hips. It’s hypnotizing. When he’s allowed to move deeper, to thrust harder, Castiel folds forward over Dean’s back. He trails kisses up Dean’s spine and presses his teeth – lightly, only lightly – to the back of his neck.

Castiel slides his hands under Dean’s shoulders, pulling him to his knees and leaning Dean’s back to his chest. He ensures his hands stay above Dean’s stomach by wrapping an arm around his waist and using his other hand to tilt Dean’s head back. It keeps them away from Dean’s erection – even though he _wants_ to touch, to feel the weight of Dean’s arousal in his palm and know that _he_ is the cause behind it. He wants to thrust forward and push Dean’s hips into his hand.

But he also _really_ wants to try to accomplish what Dean suggested earlier.

Dean’s head lolls back against his shoulder, baring his throat to the press of Castiel’s hand over the marks he’s left. Castiel fits his mouth to the healing scabs on Dean’s shoulder, running his tongue over the ridges. If he’s lucky, the mark will scar and Dean will always bear this piece of him. The bruises he sucks into Dean’s skin or leaves with too hard presses of his fingers will fade before long.

Castiel is making his own sounds – gasping grunts against the curve of Dean’s shoulders. But nothing he makes is anything like the song Dean sings. He wasn’t nearly this loud yesterday and Castiel revels in every surprised cry and whimpering gasp. One of Dean’s hands is on Castiel’s hip, pulling him forward to meet the roll of his own. The other clutches at the arm Castiel has around his waist, fingers digging in.

“Touch – Christ, Cas – touch me. Forget what I said earlier –” Dean tries pushing Castiel’s hand down, images burning bright in the kin-connection. “If you don’t touch me – fuck – I’ll do it myself.”

 _(No.)_ The end of his tail slaps the floor with a particularly hard thrust that makes Dean’s voice break. _(I want to make you -)_ There’s that stupid foreign word again and he can’t remember what it is right now but it’s what he wants. _(- without touching you.)_

Dean groans and his fingers are scrabbling at Castiel’s hip almost painfully, nails raking at the top of his adipose fins. _(Not enough time – not enough foreplay – Cas, don’t you dare make me beg.)_

Castiel grins against his bite mark. _(I think I would like that. What is it that you’ve said to me before? Ask me nicely?)_

Dean swears again in low, quiet mutters as he shakes his head. _(Don’t play with me, Cas.)_

 _(That’s entirely the point, isn’t it?)_ Castiel smiles against the side of Dean’s throat, dragging his tongue over the space under his ear. _(Ask me nicely, and I’ll touch you.)_

Dean pushes his arms away, dropping forward onto his hands before falling to his elbows. His head hangs between his shoulders and he rocks back particularly hard. _(How – shit – how are you so fucking coherent right now?)_

He runs his hands over Dean’s back again, tracing the muscles. _(I’m used to separating my thoughts, to thinking one thing, speaking another, while doing something else entirely. If I hadn’t been thinking about this for most of the day, I might be just as lost as you are if not worse. But now is different from yesterday. Right now I want to savour this, devote it to memory.)_

Castiel bends forward again, kissing between his shoulder blades. He slides his hands over and under Dean’s hips, fingers stopping short of where Dean wants them. Dean groans in irritation and leans to one side. Castiel grabs his wrist before he can touch himself, pulling it up to hold behind his back.

_(Ask me nicely, Dean.)_

Frustration floods the kin-connection and Dean tries to pull his hand free. Castiel lets it go without hesitation. He won’t hold Dean down like that – not unless Dean wants him to. Dean glares over his shoulder at him and his arms shake when he pushes up onto his hands again. The question in the kin-connection is barely there when he asks it, little more than a desperate image.

When he pulls Dean back up again, appreciation burns hotly through the kin-connection. It’s wrapped in that ever present, too-bright warmth that digs a home in Castiel’s chest. His first touch over Dean’s erection is light, a ghosting of his fingers along its length. With the next, Castiel wraps his hand around him completely and the webbing between his thumb and forefinger catches on the head with every other thrust-push.

He can feel the swirling, burning storm gathering under his scales. It’s settling heavy and throbbing in his gut, and it’s not going to be much longer now. Castiel knows it, and so does Dean. He’s urging Castiel to move harder, faster with every soft ‘oh’ and gasp-whine.

The spray of the shower is completely forgotten. It’s splashing cold water over his flared back-fans and the end of his tail as it whips back and forth in the small space. Stray drops keep splattering onto Dean’s shoulders and Castiel licks them away.

It takes his other hand, pushed down between Dean’s legs and fingers pressed to that stretch of skin behind his balls, to make Dean orgasm. It gets tight – so tight – and Castiel gasps against the back of his neck as Dean’s muscles contract around him. He doesn’t know how many more times he rocks into Dean before he reaches his own completion. He has to press his forehead to the back of Dean’s neck when he does. It’s that or risk sinking his teeth into Dean’s shoulder again.

They both sag forward, Dean on his stomach and Castiel stretched over his back. He doesn’t want to move, but he needs to. Castiel can’t stay in Dean. He’ll be sheathed again soon and he needs to remove the condom before that happens. He doesn’t want to move, but he has to and he does. His arms shake when he pushes himself up and his fingers are clumsy as he pulls that wrong-feeling fake-skin off. He tosses it aside like he’s seen Dean do before and waits until he is sheathed again before he lays across the warmth radiating from Dean’s back.

“You’re heavy.” Dean mumbles into his clothes, thoughts amused and tired.

 _(You’re warm.)_ Castiel presses his nose into the short hairs at the back of Dean’s neck and stifles a yawn against his skin. _(And I am sleepy now.)_

 _(Don’t go leaving me to clean up this mess alone.)_ Dean shifts, forcing Castiel to roll to one side.

The lower half of his tail is still in the shower and it’s almost perfect, having Dean and his heat while feeling the comfort of water at the same time. He grumbles unhappily when Dean starts to sit up, starts to pull away. Dean laughs and it sounds tired.

At some point, Castiel finds himself sitting up in the shower completely. He’s not sure when or how Dean moved him. The door is closed and there are bubbles of soap running down Dean’s legs. He’s humming while he cleans himself. The water is warmer than it was before, but it’s not uncomfortable.

Castiel fades between moments. The next time he notices what’s happening, he’s still curled in the shower but the water is off. He remembers lazily brushing his teeth while Dean is pulling on his clothing. Dean smiles down at Castiel when he’s fully dressed and the warm touch to his thoughts is only slightly concerned though it is mostly fond, full of warmth and amusement.

_(You really are tired, aren’t you?)_

He hums in acknowledgement and watches through hooded eyes as Dean pat-dries his arms and tail with a towel. Dean opens the door to the bathroom before he picks Castiel up. When he does, Castiel curls against his chest, turning into Dean and tucking his arms between them. He’s asleep before they even get back to the room.

x

_(Go back to sleep.)_

Castiel lifts his head from the pillow, yawning widely and not bothering to cover it. He’s laying on his stomach and his hands are tucked under the new pillow Dean had found for him so that they don’t have to keep sharing one between them – even though that is what Castiel prefers.  He brightens his glow and he catches Dean’s wince in the light when he looks over his shoulder.

The blanket is pulled out of the way and Dean is sitting next to him with his legs crossed. He has one of the spray bottles in one hand and he’s squirting water over Castiel’s tail, rubbing it into his scales and webbing with his other hand. The touches are gentle, but he thinks they’re what woke him. Castiel curls his tail closer, folding it around Dean so he can reach everything without having to move.

 _(How long have I been sleeping?)_ Castiel looks around blearily. He doesn’t know why the phone-alarm didn’t wake him sooner.

Dean pulls the end of Castiel’s tail into his lap to dampen it too. _(Not long enough. Just go back to sleep.)_

 _(I can help.)_ Castiel gropes across the bed, reaching for the corner where the other spray bottle should be _(Where’s the other bottle? I can take care of my side-fans at least.)_

 _(Already got them. And your dorsal fins, and the front of your tail.)_ Dean sprays another few times before he tosses the bottle to the end of the bed. _(Just go back to sleep, Cas. I got you.)_

Castiel lays his head back down, but he doesn’t sleep. He waits until the blanket is drawn back up to his shoulders. He waits until Dean stretches out next to him again, feet tangling with the end of his tail. The adipose of his end-fans flare over his ankles and Castiel curls against his side. Dean makes room for him almost like it’s second nature.

He’s warm on the outside and on the inside. The kin-connection is rolling with waves of soothing warmth and it is lulling Castiel to sleep quickly. Dean presses a kiss to his forehead and Castiel mumbles a drowsy ‘goodnight’ against his shoulder.

He’s going to miss this. Even as he slips toward going back to sleep, he wishes he could keep it. All of it; this warmth and the satisfying feeling that makes him feel – it makes him feel _complete_. He wants to keep it and he wants to keep Dean long after next week. He wants to stay with Dean and learn all the different sides of him.

He wants to ask Dean to stay.

For a moment, Castiel thinks he feels Dean go still – but then waves of _warmth_ swirl thickly through the kin-connection and Dean’s arm tightens over his shoulders. After that, all he remembers is his dreams. Deep, cool waters; warm hands; his family and Dean swimming with him, staying with him.

When Castiel finally does wake again, Dean is pressed tight against his back and his mind is clear of any sleep-fog. A purr starts to rumble in his chest when Dean lays a line of kisses down the back of his neck. He finds Dean’s hand where it rests over his stomach and hums a quiet ‘good morning’. His answer is a gentle bite that makes his tail jerk under the blanket.

Dean pulls him closer, fingers spread wide over his belly. He opens his mouth on the back of Castiel’s neck and the first suck surprises a soft noise out of him. Castiel squirms under the press of Dean’s mouth and the hands that hold him in place. His purr turns into a groan when Dean’s fingers slip up his chest, brushing over his nipples. The hand keeps going, up his throat and over his chin. It covers his mouth and Castiel’s next sound gets muffled.

_(The others are all gone for breakfast but you should still stay quiet.)_

Castiel hunches his shoulders and pushes them back into the press of Dean’s mouth, the drag of his teeth and tongue. _(Did you have a good dream?)_

 _(I didn’t sleep.)_ Dean moves, finding the edges of his gills and the bottom of his side-fan. _(Not after spraying you down.)_

Concern overtakes the burgeoning curls of _yeswantheat_ and Castiel tries to turn to face Dean. _(Why not? You were tired after the shower. You couldn’t have gotten enough sleep between then and when the alarm went off.)_

 _(Brain wouldn’t shut off.)_ He licks over the spines and webbing of Castiel’s side-fan, propping himself up on his elbow to lean over Castiel’s side for a better reach. _(Don’t think that I’m not looking for a repeat of last night right now. I’m  still a little too sore for that. I figured I might as well give you a nice good morning and keep good on that promise of mine.)_

Dean nudges his nose under the curve of Castiel’s  jaw only to pull away laughing. _(Nice peach fuzz. Time for you to shave, I think, before I can give your more hickeys.)_

Castiel touches his cheek and shrugs. His stubble isn’t _that_ bad, but it has been a few days. He turns over and Dean smiles down at him, wide and bright. _(Good morning, sunshine.)_

_(For someone who stayed up half the night, you are very perky.)_

_(I’m just very happy.)_ He kisses him and even though neither of them have brushed their teeth yet, the kiss is long and it leaves Castiel breathless. Dean pulls back slowly and rests their foreheads together. _(Jess and Meg are going to practice all morning. Depending on the results and if the weather stays calm enough, they might want to try to take the chip out tonight. Is that okay with you?)_

Castiel pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt to warm his fingers against his skin. _(Yes. Since Benny will be stopping the boat for that anyways, I would like to swim until then.)_ He doesn’t want to say what he has to next, but it’s necessary. _(And I’m going to need to break the kin-connection.)_

Surprise fills their link and Dean pulls back to look down at him, confusion on creasing his brow. _(Why?)_

 _(I need to dive.)_ Castiel sits up too, stretching his tail out across the bed. _(You have a bathroom, I use sand. I would like  clean my scales too, but that takes too much time I would fall behind the boat. I don’t want to risk losing you.)_

Dean smiles softly and looks down at where he rubs his hand over Castiel’s hip. _(We could clean them now, before I put you overboard?)_

He shakes his head, rubbing at the back of his neck and trying to find with his fingertips the new marks Dean made on him. _(I like it when you help me, but I – I would like to do it like I used to. It works better than the soap and cloth.)_

 _(Yeah, okay. I get it.)_ Dean smiles and pats his tail once before pulling open the curtain around their bed. _(Maybe you can do that before you come back on the boat later. Are you going to eat breakfast down there too?)_

 _(I think so. I want to hunt. And today I’m going to catch your lunch too so don’t eat what the kitchen prepares for you.)_ Castiel drags himself to the edge of the bed and watches Dean get dressed. _(Do you prefer fish? Or would you like octopus? Clams?)_

Dean puts his short pants on – the ones he wears when swimming – and when Castiel gets excited, he explains that it’s only so he doesn’t get too hot while sitting out on deck. _(I’m a simple man when it comes to my food, Cas. You don’t need to get fancy on me. Just any old fish will do.)_

Castiel gets the belt with his sword and dagger out from underneath the bed, buckling it around his waist while Dean pulls on his shirts. _(Should I hunt for the others too? I can provide for all of them.)_

Something selfish, something possessive twists into the kin-connection and Dean hesitates before he answers. _(Maybe another time. It’s fine to just get something for me today.)_

The moment Castiel is in the water, he dives. He goes at an angle, keeping pace with the boat and hoping he won’t lose sight of them when he surfaces again. Castiel keeps the kin-connection with Dean up until it breaks from distance alone. He spends as little time as he can finding a sandy spot to bury his waste.

He catches his breakfast on his way back up. Even rising at another angle in the same direction the boat doesn’t keep him in line with it like he thought it would. Castiel is far off to one side and he’s a little ways behind it.  Dean is out on the deck by the time he catches up, sitting facing the water and eating whatever it is that he has for breakfast. Sam is sitting next to him with his back to the railings.

Dean is looking at Sam when Castiel touches his mind, but he immediately looks out over the waters the moment the kin-connection slides into place. Castiel swims close enough to the surface for his flared back-fans to break the water so Dean knows where he is. He doesn’t particularly like swimming and eating at the same time, but it’s what he needs to do.

Not long after he’s finished eating, Dean starts on his surprise project again. Castiel makes the kin-connection with Sam too and tries to find out what Dean is working on through him. Even Sam won’t tell him and Castiel is certain that the surprise is for him. Everyone else that Dean knows, that the surprise might possibly be for, pass him on the deck several times throughout the hours Castiel swims and Dean makes no effort to hide it from them.

Today Castiel shows Sam all the things he sees. There’s nothing really near the surface but if he dives to the furthest reach of the kin-connection, there is more to see. Sam soaks it in and Dean’s amusement through their link is enough for Castiel to know that Sam is doing what Dean calls ‘geeking out’.

 _(He even has a notebook, Cas. He’s taking_ notes _.)_ Dean’s laughs, his thoughts fond. _(He’s such a geek.)_

 _(There’s nothing wrong with liking to learn.)_ Castiel reprimands him, snatching a small fish for a snack as he passes a school. _(Are you getting hungry yet?)_

_(Sorta. You really don’t have to hunt anything for me, Cas. I can get something in the kitchen.)_

Castiel brushes the comment aside. _(I want to.)_ Something occurs to him and he hesitates before going in search of the perfect fish for Dean. _(Will the people in the kitchen be alright with you bringing in something to cook? If I could prepare it for you, I would.)_

Dean’s laughter echoes through the kin-connection. _(As I’m sure you’re well aware, I’m a big boy. It’s nice that you want to bring home the bacon – so to speak - but you don’t have to_ provide _for me, Cas. As long as you catch it, then I’ll take care of the rest, don’t you worry. Ellen shouldn’t mind, especially if I cook it myself.)_

It’s not what he wants, but it’s satisfactory. He wants to provide for Dean properly. Having Dean cook the meal he’s trying to give him just doesn’t sit well with him. Castiel lets the matter lie, choosing to focus on finding a fish worthy of being given to Dean instead of debating with him further. He catches and releases a half dozen fish before he finds one that is not an obscene size but still has plenty of meat on its bones. He grabs another for himself before he decides to return.

Castiel keeps the fish with him, alive and wriggling in his hands, as he approaches the boat. Dean is talking with the yellow-haired female again. The way she holds herself and touches Dean’s arm makes Castiel’s chest feel tight and dark. He watches from beneath the waves as they talk, not telling Dean or Sam that he’s ready.

It’s Sam who notices Castiel’s shadow in the water. Dean looks away from the female sharply and Castiel knows he’s been spotted at the surprise and delight that sparks along the kin-connection. _(You got some fish, Cas?)_

He pulses affirmation into their link, but he’s watching the female. She’s standing too close to Dean, even when she leans over the railing and shades her eyes to squint at the water. _(I want to come on board now. I’ll eat my lunch with you and clean myself tomorrow.)_

Castiel doesn’t say anything more while Dean packs up whatever his surprise is. Dean gives the bag to Sam before he leaves him and the yellow-haired female alone, taking the stairs to go find Benny.

Castiel touches curiosity to the edges of Sam’s mind. _(Who is she?)_

Sam looks up from his book and glances at the female before turning out to the waters where Castiel is swimming. _(This is Jo. I told you and Dean about her yesterday, remember? She’s Ellen’s daughter and just a couple years younger than me. Everyone else on board is older than us and she’s pretty happy to have people more or less her age around. She and Dean have really hit it off.)_

 _(What’s that mean?)_ Castiel changes his speed to match the boat as it starts to slow.

_(It means that they get along well.)_

The dark feeling in his chest is back. Castiel recognizes the sick twist to his stomach as the jealousy Dean once told him he was feeling about the hickeys Pamela had given him. Castiel frowns, holding the fish tighter than he needs to. He doesn’t get this feeling when Dean talks with Meg, or Jess. He didn’t feel it when Dean talked with Lilith, and he certainly didn’t feel it when Dean spoke with other females – or even other males – on the deck yesterday.

He keeps those dark feelings hidden from the kin-connection, from both Sam’s link and Dean’s. They don’t make him feel good and he would be ashamed to share them. When the boat stops, Castiel swims in circles before the swim-deck. Dean comes back down the stairs with a container and Castiel places the fish in it before he tries pulling himself up onto the platform. Jo hasn’t left yet and she takes the container from Dean so he can kneel on the swim-deck.

 _(Hey, hold on. Let me help.)_ Dean starts lifting him with his hands under his arms.

Castiel wraps his tail around Dean’s waist and curls his arms around his shoulders the moment that he is able to. Sam has to help Dean back onto the proper deck to make sure that Dean doesn’t overbalance and fall into the sea. Castiel knows he’s getting Dean’s clothing wet, but he doesn’t care. He holds on to him tightly, ignoring the worry Dean lets into the kin-connection at how clingy Castiel is being.

“What should I do with this?” Jo asks once the railing-door is shut. She’s looking into the box, eyebrows raised at the flopping fish.

“Could you take them to the kitchen for me? I’ll be there in a few minutes to cook up one of them up and filet the other.” Dean lifts Castiel higher, getting his not-broken arm under the bend of his tail. “And if you could ask your mom if it’s alright for me to use a part of the kitchen for a bit, that’d be great. Thanks!”

Jo rolls her eyes, but she laughs and nods. She winks at Castiel before she disappears up the stairs and Castiel wants to be angry with her for the jealousy that makes it hard to breathe, but he can’t. Sam opens the doors for them when Dean carries him back to the room. Castiel curls on their bed after he puts his belt and weapons underneath it.

 _(I’ll be back with lunch soon. Is one of those fish specifically mine?)_ Dean asks as he runs his hand through Castiel’s hair.

Castiel shows him an image in the kin-connection explaining which fish is for him and which is for Dean. He whispers something to Sam before he leaves and Sam immediately puts the bag with Dean’s surprise in it in one of the top most drawers on his side of the room. It’s another clear hint that the surprise is for Castiel. He’s placed it where Castiel can’t reach. Sam gets the laptop from another drawer and settles back on his bed with it.

They talk until Dean comes back, asking and answering questions between them. Sam seems to be carefully keeping his inquiries away from anything that will happen after next week. He asks  things about Castiel personally and things about his past that Castiel is comfortable with answering. Castiel learns that when Sam was eleven he ran away from ‘home’ and had spent a week living on his own with his first pet dog.

When Dean does return, he has a tray for Sam, one for Castiel, and his own. Castiel watches closely as Dean starts eating. He looks up to see Castiel watching, his own fish untouched – served like how Lilith used to do it but without the dried seaweed. Dean’s slow chewing comes to a stop and his eyebrow lifts once before he smiles.

 _(It’s delicious. Thanks for catching it, Cas.)_ He leans over and kisses him with just a brief brush of lips.

Castiel doesn’t bother hiding his pleasure. A purr rumbles in his chest even as he eats and Castiel curls his tail across the bed and around Dean’s hips. The fish Castiel got for Dean has a crusty coating now. Dean says he fried it and when he shares a piece with him, Castiel doesn’t find it too bad. The majority of Dean’s plate is full of French fries and he willingly shares them with Castiel. Dean says he only had to cook the fish, and that the fries are from what had been served with lunch for everyone else.

 _(So what was up when you came back on board?)_ Dean prods Castiel’s tail with his fork. _(You were stink-eyeing Jo pretty badly.)_

_(It was nothing.)_

_(You sure?)_ Dean tilts his head. _(I know she’s someone new and you don’t deal with new people that well, but she’s a sweet kid with damn good taste in music.)_

Castiel’s side-fans twitch and he looks up from his plate, relief folding through his chest. _(Kid?)_

 _(Yeah. She just turned twenty-two last week.)_ Dean shrugs, continuing to eat. _(Her dad was a soldier too – like mine. I don’t know if they were in the corps together, but they were both Marines and that’s pretty cool. We’ve been swapping our dad’s war stories – though she doesn’t know a whole lot. She was pretty young when she lost her dad.)_

His tail tightens, curling up into Dean’s lap instead of resting along his thigh. _(So you see her as a child?)_

 _(Not really. She’s definitely not a kid. I mean, have you seen her? She’s pretty cute.)_ Dean gestures lazily with his fork toward the door and Castiel fights a frown. _(It’s just nice to talk to other people – find a kindred spirit, y’know? We have the same taste in music. We haven’t reached what kind of movies she likes to watch, but I’ve got high hopes that her tastes don’t suck.)_

Castiel picks at his fish. What little relief he had felt is gone and his adipose fins rustle unhappily. _(I see.)_

Jo can relate to Dean better than Castiel can. All he has is their experience together when they were imprisoned by Lilith and what they’ve learned of each other through the kin-connection and their bodies. He’s heard a few of Dean’s songs – his favourites – but he knows so little about Dean’s culture and his world. Castiel hasn’t even seen any ‘movies’ beyond what videos Dean had filmed on his phone.

Dean looks at him, head tilted and concern tripping through the kin-connection. _(You not hungry?)_

 _(I ate a few times while I was swimming.)_ Castiel pushes the tray away, his appetite lost. It’s partially true and it’s enough to keep Dean from feeling any lie to his statement.

“Hey, I’ll take your trays back to the kitchen.” Sam offers as he stands. “I want to go check in with Jess and Meg, see how they’re doing. I’ll be back in a half hour, maybe less. Either way, you won’t have enough time to do anything.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Dean grins, handing their trays to him.”We’re saving that for later.”

Sam makes a face. “Seriously, jerk, not in our room. Okay? You have no clue when Bobby will be back, but I’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Go on, bitch. Jess is waiting.” Dean flaps his hand at him and Sam leaves while muttering under his breath.

Castiel slips lower down the bed, curling on his side and half-hiding his face in the pillow. Dean checks the drawer where Sam put the bag and he starts looking through a few other drawers before Castiel speaks again.

 _(Can you show me more of your music? Or can we watch one of these ‘movies’ you were speaking about?)_ He twists his tail in the blanket, fingers playing with the seam of his pillow. _(I’d like to learn more about the things you like.)_

Dean looks up from the drawer he’s poking through. _(Oh? Really?)_ He manages an expression that is a mixture of doubtful and _knowing_. Castiel can’t meet his eyes, continuing to fidget with pillow. Dean sits on the edge of the bed and slides his hand up Castiel’s hip. _(Things I like, huh? Well, I like_ you _.)_

He hisses and slaps Dean’s hands away. _(That’s not what I meant and you know it.)_ Castiel turns onto his stomach, completely hiding his face in the pillow. He wants to know all the things that Dean likes. And he wants to like them to. He wants to have that connection with Dean in addition to all the other ways he and Dean are already linked.

His back-fans flare, knocking Dean’s hands away when they touch along his back. Dean’s weight leaves the bed for a moment before the mattress dips again. Castiel doesn’t look up until a cacophony of _noise_ starts up next to him. He jerks away from the sound, sitting up sharply.

 _(This, Cas, is_ Metallica _. Learn it, live it, love it.)_ Dean pats the top of the laptop as the sound of guitars and other ‘instruments’ play. _(I prefer their earlier stuff, but their newer songs aren’t too bad.)_

What’s happening on the screen, the moving wavy lines, isn’t at all as important as what Dean calls ‘music’ coming from the laptop. Compared to it, Castiel prefers when Dean sings and plays the guitar himself. Dean lays on his back and puts the laptop on his stomach. He hums along when it’s just the instruments and he sings or mouths the words when they’re there. His foot taps against the wall in time with the underlying beat of the music. Castiel watches Dean while he listens. He looks calm, almost peaceful. The kin-connection is settled through with a comfortable haze and it’s calming to that dark burn souring the warmth in Castiel’s chest.

The first few songs that Dean plays are from the group called ‘Metallica’. Then he takes Castiel through songs by other groups of people – Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. Some of it just sounds like someone screaming and Dean is quick to change to a new song when Castiel shows his dislike for them by poking at the buttons on the laptop.

 _(Tomorrow I can show you movies.)_ Dean pushes his hand away during a particularly screeching song and changes it to a new one. _(We’ll start you off easy with the best of the classics – Star Wars. To save you the confusion, we’ll watch them in the order they’re supposed to be in – instead of the order they were released in.)_

Castiel tilts his head and regards Dean skeptically. _(I’m assuming you’re aware that I am going to understand next to nothing about these videos, even with your translations, and that watching them seems more for your pleasure than my benefit.)_

 _(You’ll love them. Big explosions, gripping storyline, hot actors. What more could you ask for?)_ Dean grins at him, bright and wide and more than enough to help Castiel forget the sick twist in his stomach.

Bobby comes back with Sam and he climbs up into his bed, grumbling about taking a nap and complaining about the people taking care of the engines on this boat. Dean turns down the music, but he doesn’t have to stop it. Sam tells them that Meg and Jess had a few hiccups this morning but their practicing has really improved throughout the day.

“They’re almost out of jello molds, but Meg hasn’t made a – er – a _fatal_ mistake in the last three attempts. When they’re done with them all, Jess says they should be able to take out the chip tonight. If you’re ready, that is.” Sam explains to them in hushed tones, barely heard over the music.

Castiel curls closer to Dean’s side, winding his fingers in his shirt. _(I will be ready.)_ He’s scared of what could happen if Meg misses, if she hits one of the things that Dean told him could hurt him badly. But he wants the chip _out_.

Dean relays the message to Sam and he leaves again to go tell Jess and Meg. He’ll need to tell Benny that he has to stop the boat again so they don’t rock too hard in the water. Castiel pushes the laptop off of Dean’s stomach, making room as he lift-drags himself to cover most of him. He worms his arms under Dean’s back and presses his face into his neck.

 _(It’ll be alright, Cas.)_ Dean sits up slightly, shuffling to get the other pillow behind his back too. _(You heard Sam. They’ve been practicing. You’ll be fine.)_

Castiel tangles his tail around Dean’s legs and his fans rustle unhappily. _(I don’t want to lose the ability to move. Being locked in small-sea was one thing, but never being able to swim again, even in the sea is – I can’t, Dean. I won’t want to live if that happens.)_

 _(I’ve told you before not to think like that.)_ Dean’s arms tighten almost painfully over his shoulders and Castiel can the feel the press of lips to his forehead. _(You don’t have to do it if you really don’t want to. We can leave it in and let Ash handle the signal.)_

 _(I don’t want to go home with this_ thing _stuck in my body.)_ Castiel shakes his head. _(I want it_ out _.)_

Dean runs his hands over the back of his neck. _(It’ll be okay, Cas. You’ll be asleep for the whole thing and then you’ll wake up and everything will be okay. I’ll be there for the whole thing.)_

 _(You promise?)_ Castiel lifts his head to look at Dean. _(You’ll won’t leave even if someone tells you to? You won’t leave even if –)_ It’s stupid to ask this, but that sick burn in his chest puts the question into his thoughts and Castiel hates it the moment he shares it. _(-You won’t leave even if Jo shows up?)_ His adipose fins start to rustle against Dean’s legs and Castiel tries not to frown. He tries to keep his expression neutral.

Surprise fills the kin-connection, and it is quickly followed by confusion. _(Jo? What does Jo – oh.)_ The confusion almost immediately gives way to understanding – without Castiel having explained anything – and Dean starts to laugh. _(Was that why you were all grumpy during lunch? You can hide as much of your emotions as you want, Cas, but I’ve already seen what you look like when you’re jealous.)_

He slides one hand down Castiel’s side, settling it below his hip and he tugs at Castiel’s adipose fins. _(These get all ripple-y.)_ He pokes Castiel between his eyebrows. _(And you get a little frown line right here. It’s pretty hard to tell apart from when you’re pissed. But I know you’re not angry right now and you’re asking about Jo. Two plus two is four - you’re jealous that she was flirting with me.)_

Dean looks far too smug when Castiel doesn’t say anything. _(You’re welcome to correct me if I’m wrong.)_

It’s with a certain amount of bitterness that Castiel shares the feeling of the dark burn. As soon as he’s sure Dean’s felt it, he erases it from the kin-connection. He hates having that feeling tainting their link. But he still lets Dean feel his irritation – especially how annoyed he is by Dean’s teasing grin.

_(I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I don’t cheat, Cas.)_

_(I don’t see what fraud has to do with –)_

Dean sighs and he rubs his hand almost absently over Castiel’s arm. _(Let’s try this a different way. I said before that we’re more complicated than boyfriends. But we_ are _something. We’re_ us _– we’re you and me. There’s no one else in that equation, right?)_

Castiel nods.

 _(I may have a sordid history of sleeping around, but I’ve never slept with anyone else while I was actually with someone.)_ His smile turns cocky. _(I don’t share my bed with just anyone, y’know. I’ve slept with blanket-stealers, pillow-stealers, cold-feeters, you name it. But I’ve never shared it with a_ heat- _stealer.)_

To accentuate Dean’s point, Castiel works his hands under his shirt and spread his fingers over his sides. There’s a pulse of caution through the kin-connection – a warning to not tickle him.

 _(So you’re already special all on your own there. And then there’s these.)_ Dean continues. This time his fingers play over the marks he placed on the back of Castiel’s neck, on the side of his throat and along his collarbone. _(I haven’t given someone a hickey since high school. And I sure as hell have never let anyone put one on me where it could be_ seen _.)_

That un-named warmth fills the kin-connection, rolling through it in shuddering waves that makes Castiel’s fans flare. He ducks his head, pressing quick little kisses to Dean’s mouth and the smile pulling at his lips. Dean tilts his chin up, guiding the kisses into long, slow pulls of lips and tongue.

 _(I’ll admit that I’ll probably flirt back when someone turns on the charm with me – but everyone on this boat, including Jo, knows that I’ve got something going with you.)_ Dean runs his hands through Castiel’s hair, tilting his head as he pleases. _(I’m well fed, Cas. I’m not going to try and get anything anywhere else when I haven’t been this satisfied – this_ happy _– in years.)_

Castiel pulls back, just enough so that he’s breathing roughly against Dean’s mouth. His chest feels too full. Warmth is twirling around his ribs and digging deep behind his sternum. But there’s still _doubt_. There’s still something marring that warmth and Castiel wants it gone. He needs Dean to say exactly what will make it go away.

He drops his forehead to rest against Dean’s jaw, unable to look him in the eyes when he asks this question. _(Jo is attractive. She’s human. She can_ stay _. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be with her?)_

Castiel is not expecting the sharp movement that ends with him on his back, staring up at angry eyes. Frustration and discontent are filling the kin-connection and Dean’s mouth – so pliant and welcoming only a minute ago – is set in a hard, unhappy line.

_(Don’t you ever ask me that again, Cas.)_

This time the kisses are rough to the point that they almost hurt. Castiel tastes blood and he can’t tell whose lips or tongue was cut by his teeth. Dean is a heavy weight over his hips and he’s holding Castiel’s shoulders against the bed, fingers curled tight and cast digging in painfully. _(We’ve been over this before – if I didn’t want_ you _, I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be doing this.)_ He purposefully rolls his body, rubbing against Castiel’s sheath. _(You got me, Cas?)_

A desperate noise gets muffled between them. Castiel is almost certain that it came from him, but he doesn’t care. He folds his tail up Dean’s back, the end curving over his shoulder again. It’s just like the day before yesterday, but this time the goal isn’t physical release. The moment Dean moves his hands, Castiel locks his arms around Dean’s shoulders, one hand in the short hairs on the back of his head. He fills the kin-connection with all the warmth and his apologies that he can give.

Dean doesn’t let him properly breathe or move until someone clears their throat. By then Castiel’s thoughts are nearly lost to the hurricane of _wantminewarmth_ that fills the kin-connection. His chest is rising and falling under Dean’s hands at a too rapid rate and Dean is practically vibrating with satisfaction.

He waves over his shoulder at another rough cough. “Just a minute, Sammy.” Dean leans over him again, waiting until Castiel can meet his eyes. _(Now, you’re not going to think stupid shit like that again, are you?)_

Castiel shakes his head and Dean smiles. He presses a kiss to Castiel’s forehead before he slips out from under his tail, sliding from the bed in one smooth motion. Sam is waiting by the door and he doesn’t look happy.

“Oh lighten up, Sammy. We weren’t fucking.” Dean stretches until his spines make popping noises. “So what’s on the agenda now?”

“They think they’re as ready as they’re ever going to be.” Sam shoots one last distrustful glare at Dean before he looks at Castiel more softly. Castiel picks up the slack in his link with Sam, strengthening the kin-connection so they can talk again. _(If you’re up for it, we can do this now. You should be awake by supper time if all goes well. Though the meds might make you feel sick instead of hungry.)_

Castiel sits up and hooks his tail over the edge of the bed to help pull himself closer to it. He shares his answer with both Dean and Sam. _(Let’s get this over with.)_

Dean carries him back out onto the deck and for the first time he takes Castiel up the stairs. Sam follows close behind to make sure that Dean doesn’t fall. Castiel prefers being carried chest-to-chest, but it’s easier for Dean to walk while carrying him across his chest, his tail over one arm and his back against the other.

There are more people on the second deck. There are chairs and tables squeezed into an open space at the head of the boat and Sam explains that this is where most of the crew eats their meals since the kitchen is on the same level. There is a third level that does not have a deck around it. The stairs that follow the wall lead up to a door. It’s open and Jess is waiting for them.

The room they’re in is eerily similar to Lilith’s office. There’s a desk on one side of the room with plush chairs before it. Big pictures cover the walls and two couches have been pushed to the side of the room, leaving an open space that Meg has filled with a shiny table and the x-ray machine. The male named Crowley is sitting behind the desk with his feet propped up on its top and he’s holding another short glass full of amber liquid. He doesn’t look particularly interested in what’s going on, but his eyes are sharp when he glances toward them as they enter the room.

Dean sits Castiel on the metal table and it is cold under his scales. Sam and Jess balance several plates of wiggling, multi-coloured shapes in their arms, picking them up from Crowley’s desk. Some of the shapes are mutilated and missing pieces, others look like they haven’t been touched. Meg is sorting through an open box on the table next to Castiel and he recognizes the hollow-tube before she picks it up.

His fans flare and he only manages to stifle a hiss because of Dean’s hand on his arm. Castiel glares at the hollow-tube and its needle end while Meg sticks into a glass container and pulls the piece at the end that moves the liquid from within the container to within the hollow-tube. His adipose fins keep rippling throughout Meg’s explanation about the sleep-poison she’s going to put into his arm.

 “It’s just like the stuff we had in the darts you used to get shot up with. Only this mixture has a temporary paralytic in it so you don’t move while you’re out. You know what that is – Alistair used it on you before.” She taps at the hollow tube, squinting at the see-through part.

Castiel bares his teeth at the memories. He doesn’t like being reminded of that time – or any of the times – when Alistair, Gordon, or Lilith had any sort of power over him. It’s in the past now and that is where it should stay, where it should be forgotten. He’s still glaring at Meg and the tube when they have him lay out on his stomach across the table. Most of his tail is hanging over one edge. His face fits into a padded, circular extension sticking out of the other end of the table. The center is hollow and Castiel ends up staring at the floor and the tops of Dean’s shoes.

“Nice head rest. Who made it?” Dean asks, tapping the side of the circle-pad.

“Bobby.” Meg answers and her fingers on Castiel’s arm makes him flinch in surprise.

Sam is still away with Jess when Meg touches the needle to his skin, telling him to relax and not be so stiff. He wishes Castiel good luck and promises to see him when he wakes up. Castiel severs the kin-connection with him after thanking him. Dean is standing on the other side of the table from Meg. When he touches his  hand, Castiel automatically turns it to grip his fingers and Dean squeezes back just as tightly.

 _(I’m going to be right here the whole time, Cas. Straight through until you wake up.)_ Dean rubs his back with his free hand, pushing Castiel’s back-fans flat. _(Just keep breathing.)_

_(Why would I stop?)_

Dean snorts laughter. _(It’s what you say to help someone calm down. But that’s a little moot since Meg just hit the plunger. You’re going to be out in a moment.)_

Castiel didn’t even feel the push of the sleep-poison into his skin. But he does feel the all too familiar weight of it on his mind, pulling at his thoughts and starting to drag them into the dark that always came after he was hit with the darts. He thinks he might feel Dean’s hand in his hair, and that might also be his breath against his side-fan, but Castiel can’t be sure. Everything is fading out too quickly.

There’s a sharp tug in the kin-connection and a memory pushes through, flaring across Castiel’s mind before it gets sucked away too. It’s familiar and bright enough to be recent. It’s less than a day old and for a moment Castiel sees himself through someone else’s eyes. It’s a memory of a bed-cave and a cool body against him-but-not-him, a tail wrapped over and around his-but-not-his legs. It’s a memory of a thought, unshielded and sleepy, warm and _wanting_.

Castiel vaguely recognizes it, but he can’t focus, can’t think clearly enough to understand what Dean is showing him. The last thing Castiel knows before he slips completely into the dark is Dean’s lips brushing the spines and webbing of his side-fan as he speaks.

“Ask me.” 

 


	33. Breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s touches go everywhere and Castiel’s fans and fins twitch under his fingers. He even bends to one side, lifting and guiding his tail to twist and curl. Castiel doesn’t complain, letting Dean check that all the parts of him are working properly. When Dean’s hands run back up for his fingers to push through Castiel’s hair, they trail down the back of his head and Castiel hisses softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
>  
> 
> **The wonderful Rae is[trying to raise money for Hope 2 Haiti](http://www.crowdrise.com/hopetohaiti2013/fundraiser/novak/donate) through Random Acts. If you can, please help out!**
> 
>  
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: epiphanywisps, winglessandworthless, tranland, 
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Frank – the only grandfather I have ever known. You gave my Mémère joy, respect, and the love she needed and deserved in a partner and she returned it in kind. You treated my sisters and I like your own grandkids and that’s more than we could have ever asked for. Thank you. RIP Frank. You will be missed.

Castiel wakes to quiet voices. There’s a pillow under his head and a blanket over his shoulder and everything smells like Dean, and he can smell himself too. He must be in their bed. There is a constant throbbing in the back of his neck, but Castiel still feels comfortable and warm. He doesn’t really want to wake up, but his stomach aches and he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s hungry or if he’s going to be sick.

His head feels foggy and it takes several long moments to remember _why_ it’s like that. As soon as he does, a swooping sensation fills his chest. The tag should be out now, but now there is the chance that he might not be able to move. The swoop turns into a pulse of fear. It would be easy enough for him to check to see if he still can, but he’s scared of finding out the answer. Castiel takes a deep breath, and tries moving his tail toward whatever is making the bed dip at its edge.

Almost immediately the voices stop and a weight settles on his hip while something warm tightens around one of his hands.

“Cas?”

The blanket stops Castiel’s tail from folding around the weight – around Dean – completely, but it slides around and fits to the curve of a hip. Relief floods through him and he relaxes, humming acknowledgment to the concerned voice. He tilts his head, opens his eyes and he immediately regrets it. Groaning, he turns his face into pillow to hide from the stabbing light.

“Shit, guys, gimme a minute.”

The bed squeaks and the heat around his hand disappears. There’s shuffling and quiet cursing, a sliding rattle-screech and then the blanket gets pulled away. Castiel grumbles and folds his tail to his chest, pinning his arms to try and keep them warm. The hand that runs over his shoulder is almost too hot and Castiel hums again.

“Cas, look at me. It’s okay.”

He lifts his head slightly and cracks open one eye. The curtain has been pulled into place and the bed-cave is dark enough for Castiel’s glow to start lighting the space between them. Dean is sitting next to him, leaning over Castiel and concern is lining his face. He rubs his hand up and down Castiel’s arm in slow strokes.

“You okay?” Dean’s forehead creases and he leans closer. “How’s your head? Your neck? Can you make the kin-connection? Can you move everything?”

Castiel huffs a small laugh at the many questions, few of which he understands, and pushes up so he’s sitting too. His head swims and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly until he doesn’t feel so dizzy. Dean doesn’t stop touching him, moving his hands gently across Castiel’s shoulder and along his back, over his back-fans and his hips. He pulls at Castiel’s waist, practically dragging him into his lap and shifting him around so they are both comfortable. Castiel doesn’t stop Dean from cupping his face and tracing his side-fans in barely there touches.

Each ghost of his fingers is curious, exploratory, as if he really is checking to make sure that Castiel is okay in all aspects. He touches everywhere even though, as far as Castiel can remember, Meg was only supposed to do put a needle in his neck to remove the chip like how Pamela had done to his back. He leans into the pressure of Dean’s hands and a purr starts to rumble in his chest.

Dean’s touches travel down and Castiel’s fans and fins twitch under his fingers. He even bends to one side, lifting and guiding his tail to twist and curl. Castiel doesn’t complain and he lets Dean check that all the parts of him are working properly. When Dean’s hands run back up for his fingers to push through Castiel’s hair, they trail down the back of his head and Castiel hisses softly.

“Sorry, did that hurt?”

Castiel nods. It’s sore and sensitive. Even nodding makes his neck ache and he leans against Dean’s shoulder, tilting his head until his forehead rests against Dean’s cheek. He reaches for Dean’s mind and the kin-connection slides back into place like it was never broken by the sleeping-poison. Relief pulses sharply through the link, sliding around the edges of Castiel’s mind.

 _(How are you feeling?)_ Dean’s fingers move lightly over the back of his neck. There’s one area where the sensation of his fingertips against his skin changes and there is a little flash of pain. _(It’s a bandaide. Jess stuck one on because you bled a little when they pulled the chip out.)_

_(Oh, okay. My stomach feels a little weird and my head a little… off.)_

_(Yeah, I can tell.)_ Dean’s touch in the kin-connection drifts along his thoughts, checking his mind as much as he is his body. _(The procedure went fine, by the way. Do you want to see the chip?)_

Castiel looks up sharply. _(You kept it? What if it’s a tracker too?)_

 _(We’re going to get rid of it, but Meg thought you might want to see it first.)_ Dean shrugs and gestures over his shoulder. _(The others are dying to know if you’re okay. They were just as worried as I was. Hell, if we keep hiding in here Sam might come in after me to make sure I’m not doing anything that’ll overstress you or something.)_

He snorts and lifts his head enough to press his nose into Dean’s neck and kiss one of the marks on his throat. _(As nice as that sounds, I don’t think I’m really up for that right now.)_

Dean laughs and pats his tail. _(Yeah, I kind of figured that.)_

Castiel has to slide out of Dean’s lap for him to turn around and pull the curtain back. He does it slowly so their eyes have the time to adjust. He looks around the room and takes in everyone’s locations first. Meg is sitting on the floor with her back to the tiered-platform that leads up to her bed. Sam is on the floor too, but he is sitting at the head of the bed and Jess and Bobby are sitting on the bed itself.

He pulls himself to the edge of the bed and his tail folds to the floor. Dean sits next to him and makes a grand gesture toward Castiel. “Ta-da! He’s good as new!”

Jess smiles brightly. “Welcome back to the world of the living! How’re you feeling?”

“Okay.” Castiel shrugs and touches his stomach. It feels hollow and even though he knows that he hasn’t eaten in hours, he doesn’t really want to eat anything at the moment. He looks between Jess and Meg. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad we didn’t break anything while we were in there.” Meg smiles and pulls a small hollow tube from her pocket. She shakes it and a tiny black thing rattles inside before she tosses it to Dean. “It was no picnic getting that out.”

Dean hands the tube to Castiel and he squints at the square inside of it. How could something so small cause him so much pain? Dean has shown him through the kin-connection many of the amazing things that humans have made, but they also create such terrible things. He slides to the floor, ignoring the confusion pushing at his mind from Dean.

 _(How do I open this?)_ He asks while he gets his sword out from underneath the bed.

The instructions are a little hesitant, but Dean understands soon enough when Castiel pulls the blue end from the tube. He shakes the square out onto the floor and no one stops him from smashing it with the hilt of his sword. The chip shatters and Castiel grinds the end of his sword against the pieces for a few moments until he’s satisfied and he puts his sword away. Castiel gives Meg the tube and it’s blue end back. He tries to climb back onto the bed and he waves Dean off when he gets up to help him, determined to do this on his own.

 _(Are you hungry?)_ Dean asks once Castiel is settled with his tail curled under him, leaning heavily against his side. _(You slept longer than we expected, so we’ve already eaten. I had Sam scour the kitchen for that seaweed shit you had before when you were sick, but Ellen doesn’t have any of it. He did manage to snag some crackers for you if you want to have some of those? We didn’t want to give you anything too heavy incase the tranquilizer messed with your stomach.)_

Castiel’s touches his stomach again, feeling the shift of muscles under his fingers. The hollow-not-hungry feeling is still there, but Dean and the others are looking at him expectantly. He shrugs again. _(I don’t feel hungry. But I could try.)_

“Someone pass me the crackers.” Dean holds out his hand and Bobby starts grumbling about ‘lazy idjits’.

He and Jess turn around and start shuffling through the blanket and pillows on that bed until one of them comes up with a long rectangular package. Bobby tosses them across the space between the beds and Dean catches it. He rips it open and passes a few of the pale square crackers to Castiel. He nibbles at them and his stomach doesn’t complain.

They sit in silence for a few moments. The only sound is the crunch of the crackers. Castiel isn’t looking directly at Dean, but he can see that Dean keeps glancing at him. There’s something nervous, something bordering on a little worried, curling in trembling tendrils through the kin-connection. But Dean doesn’t actual say anything.

“Hey, I was wondering something.” Sam speaks without warning and everyone looks to him while he turns to face Meg. “How much does Crowley know about Castiel?”

“Everything that I know.” Meg shrugs. “Why?”

“And how much do you know?”

“His biology, mostly. And whatever you had in your notes that I read.” She shrugs again. “Why?”

Sam runs a hand through his hair and he glances up at Jess. She raises her eyebrows at him and looks back down at Meg. “Does Crowley know where we found him? Are the people on this boat going to tell anyone about fin-kin?”

Meg’s eyes get narrow and she looks from Jess to Sam and then to Dean and Castiel. “Far as anyone on this boat thinks, Castiel and his kind don’t exist. As for Crowley, you’re thinking he’s going to be like Lilith, aren’t you? He went and saved your collective asses when he really didn’t have to, you know. That’s real nice of you guys.” She makes a disgusted noise and stands up.

“We’re really thankful for what he did, but we have to think about Castiel and his colony’s safety.” Jess stands too, placing a hand on Meg’s shoulder. “Please understand, we just want to know how much he knows for their sake. They don’t want to be found out by us.”

She shrugs Jess’s hand off. “Crowley knows about the islands and the fishing ground. Castiel hasn’t told us anything about his colony beyond that. If Crowley did want to capture him, don’t you think he would have done something already?”

“We don’t know him well enough to be able to say that. You work for him, so you do.”

Dean puts his arm around Castiel’s shoulder. _(I can tell them to shut up if this is upsetting you.)_

 _(Let them talk. I don’t trust anyone who hasn’t proven themselves to me.)_ Castiel continues eating the crackers as Dean passes them to him. _(I trust you and your family, and I only slightly trust Meg. My trust in Benny is because_ you _trust him. I certainly don’t trust Crowley. He hasn’t even spoken to me yet.)_

_(And what about your colony?)_

He shrugs and leans his head against Dean’s shoulder. _(I never mentioned to Sam – or to you, for that matter – which direction they’re in or how far they are from the light-beds. You could search for seasons and you wouldn’t find them.)_

Bobby stands up, pushing Jess and Meg apart from where they keep talking heatedly. “As interesting as this conversation is, it’s bed time.”

 _(But I only just woke up.)_ Castiel’s fans twitch and his fins rustle unhappily. He looks toward Dean. _(I don’t want to go to bed again so soon. Are you sleepy too?)_

Dean stands up, offering Sam his hand to help pull him to his feet. _(Let the others sleep. You and I can go sit outside if you want.)_

 _(I would like that.)_ He finishes the last cracker Dean gave him and he smile.

Meg and Jess continue talking with each other in hushed, unhappy tones while they change into their bed clothes. Bobby climbs up into his bed and shuts the curtain. While everyone is getting ready for bed, Dean takes the pillows and the blanket from his bed, moving them outside. He’s gone for several minutes and Castiel moves to wait for him by the door.

“Sam.” He twists to look back into the room where Sam is waiting for Jess to get onto the bed. “Watch please?”

“Yeah, sure. Just be careful with it.” Sam comes over and crouches next to Castiel. He straps his watch with the compass on it to his wrist.

“Thank you.” Castiel looks at it, checking the compass. With how he’s sitting, North is behind him. As far as he can tell, they’re still going in the right direction. He’s going to have to ask Dean how many days there are left until they reach the place he said they would have to stop at so they can get fuel for the boat. After that, it’ll barely be a week until he gets home.

Two feet step into view and the fingers in his hair tell Castiel that it’s Dean before he even looks up. He watches Dean step past into the room, going straight to a drawer and taking out a folded piece of clothing. Dean gives that to Castiel to hold while he’s getting another one out of the drawers on Sam’s side of the room.

Castiel unfolds the one in his hands. _(Why did you give me a sweater?)_

 _(It’s chilly out. I thought you might want to wear that.)_ Dean pulls on the sweater that he took from Sam’s drawers. “Borrowing this, Sammy. We’ll be back later. Sorry  in advance if we wake you.”

This sweater is different from the one that Castiel has worn before. This one has an extra fold of cloth around the neck that hangs down the back, and there is a zipper from the collar to the bottom of the sweater. Dean crouches next to him and pulls the zipper down until the sweater is no longer even a sweater. It’s just a strip of cloth with arms hanging off it and Dean only laughs at Castiel’s confusion.

 _(It’s a hoodie, Cas. See? It’s got a hood. And it’ll be easier for you to get this on and off since it doesn’t have to be pulled back up over anything.)_ Dean helps him get his arms into the sleeves and he zips it up over Castiel’s chest.

He grins and tugs the fold of cloth, the hood, up over his head. It’s big enough for the edge to fall over Castiel’s forehead. It stretches tighter when Castiel flares his side-fans. That only makes Dean grin wider and he pushes it back down. The door to outside isn’t very far from where Castiel is sitting and he could easily push-crawl himself if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. He likes it when Dean carries him. He puts his arms around Dean’s shoulders before he can stand up.

With amusement floating through the kin-connection, Dean lifts him and Castiel wraps his tail around Dean’s waist. Once outside, after saying ‘goodnight’ to the others, Castiel sees what Dean did with the bedding. The pillows and a pile of blankets are tucked into a corner of the deck next to the railings.

Dean doesn’t bother with putting Castiel down. Instead, he drops onto the pillows in a jarring motion that ends with Castiel sitting in his lap. The world-breath is cool against his scales and Castiel tucks tightly against Dean’s side. He doesn’t mind the cold, but when compared to Dean’s warmth he knows which one he prefers more.

One of the blankets gets pulled up over his shoulders and tucked down around Dean’s legs. His arms and hands resettle around Castiel’s waist underneath it once he’s satisfied. Dean tilts his head back against the wall and looks up at the stars speckling the sky. Castiel shuffles around, much to Dean’s amusement, until his back is to the boat and he can look out at the water through the railing instead.

_(Where did you get the extra blankets?)_

_(Borrowed them from the supplies room.)_

_(Can we keep them? We can line the bed with them.)_

Dean laughs. _(What, you want to make a nest or something?)_

_(If that’s what you chose to call it, yes.)_

He laughs more, making  the shoulder under Castiel’s cheek shake. _(Yeah, okay. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I thought you slept on some kind of ledge or something, not a nest.)_

_(I do. But we make grooves in the shelf for us to rest in. It’s nice to have something to nestle into.)_

Neither of them say anything for a while. Not until after Dean starts shifting uncomfortably with the excuse that his ‘butt is falling asleep’ – which doesn’t make much sense to Castiel. Dean spreads one of the blankets across the floor and stretches out on that. Castiel’s sits on the pillows with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

He’s still facing the water, one of his shoulders pressed to the wall. Dean’s head is resting in his lap and Castiel keeps absently running his fingers through his hair, liking the way the strands brush against his webbing and the pleasure that pulses through the kin-connection as Dean tilts his head into the touch. His tail is curled around Dean’s shoulder and down his side. Dean rests his arm over, fingers toying with the webbing of his adipose fins.

_(So you’re really not going to tell me where the colony is?)_

Castiel pauses and looks down at him. Dean has never asked him something like this before and after the conversation between Jess and Meg, it’s rather worrying. _(Why do you want to know?)_

Dean doesn’t answer for a few minutes and the kin-connection goes completely silent. He pulses concern and confusion into their link, letting it slide along the closed edges of Dean’s mind. After several minutes, Dean finally sits up and spins around to face him.

_(How much do you remember before you went under?)_

_(Before I –?)_ Castiel frowns at him, thinking back to this afternoon. _(Meg told me about the sleep-poison. I laid on my stomach with my face in the padded-ring. You were holding my hand – you were still holding it even when I was waking up, weren’t you?)_

Dean  rubs the back of his neck and looks out over the water. Castiel’s glow is enough to see the colour rising in his cheeks. _(Yeah. You said not to leave you, so I didn’t. Is that all you remember?)_

Castiel thinks harder. It feels like there’s something else, like there’s something on the edge of his mind. He’s not sure what it is and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember it. A curious mix of relief and disappointment fills the kin-connection when Castiel shakes his head.

 _(Yeah, that’s not really surprising.)_ Dean slumps sideways, leaning against the rails.

 _(Did something else happen?)_ Castiel’s frown deepens and he reaches out with his tail, curling it along his leg. _(Please, tell me.)_

Dean rubs a hand over his face before dropping it to Castiel’s tail. _(I – it was – Do you remember what you thought this morning? When you were going back to sleep after I soaked you down?)_

Frustration starts to twist in Castiel’s stomach. _(How am I supposed to remember everything that I think or hear when I’m falling asleep?)_

He groans and irritation filters along the edges of Dean’s mind. _(Never mind. It’s not important.)_

 _(This isn’t the first time I’ve had to tell you that you wouldn’t bring it up if it wasn’t important.)_ Castiel moves closer, touching along Dean’s leg with his hands too. _(Tell me.)_ This time it is not a request. He pulls at Dean’s sleeves until he can get a hold of his hand. _(Tell me.)_

Castiel has to wiggle closer, practically situating himself in Dean’s lap before Dean says anything again. This time it’s not words, it’s _memories_ that flood through the kin-connection, filling Castiel’s mind with all the things he couldn’t remember. First comes the bed-cave memory, warm and wanting and Castiel is horrified that he ever shared that thought. It’s a thought he wanted to share, but he couldn’t, he shouldn’t have. Not when they both know that Dean can’t stay with him.

Another memory falls into place after the first. Cool fingers made warm by his-not-his hand, worry knotting in his-not-his chest as he leans over to put his-not-his lips to a twitching side-fan and run a hand through rough hair. It plays through the same bed-cave memory being pushed into the kin-connection and then two words echo through Castiel’s mind.

He says them again. “Ask me.”

Castiel’s heart beats too hard against his ribs. Something painful twists in his chest and he stares at Dean, eyes so wide that they hurt. His mouth has gone dry and even though his lungs keep working, it feels like he can’t breathe. Dean’s lips are pressed into a thin line and he’s looking at Castiel steadily despite the uncertainty flaring through the kin-connection.

“Dean…” He breathes, finding it too hard to believe.

Dean can’t be saying what he thinks he is. He _can’t_. Castiel wishes that it was, but it just - it _can’t_ be. It’s not possible. How are they – how could Dean – he has his _family_. And Castiel has the colony. Once he gets home he can’t just leave them again. He won’t even be able to tell them about Dean, about _this_. If they don’t exile him then they’ll probably move the whole colony and Castiel will be under watch for the rest of his life to make sure he doesn’t go off to lead a human back to them.

“Ask me, Cas.”

A broken noise escapes him. _(Dean – I –)_ He swallows thickly, trying to rid himself of the tightness in his throat. His hands are shaking and he attempts to take them back, to let go of him, but Dean only holds on tighter. _(Dean, I can’t.)_

“Yes. You can.” Dean’s grip on his fingers is almost painful. “If you don’t, I will.”

He wants to – mother-sea, help him – he _wants_. He wants it so badly that it’s an almost constant ache in his chest, sharp and painful with each beat of his heart. _(I can’t.)_ There are just too many reasons he shouldn’t.

Castiel knows the moment Dean is going to say the thing that Castiel can’t. And he drowns it out. He fills the kin-connection with so many reason why neither of them should say it. Why he can’t ask Dean to stay. Why he can’t ask Dean to pick up and move his whole life across the world.

Dean’s doesn’t live here. Castiel doesn’t even know where he lives, but it’s not _here_. It’s not with Castiel. It’s with his family and his ‘baby’. He can’t leave all that for him. They’ve only known each other a few weeks. Castiel could probably still count the days if he needed to.

Frustration fills the kin-connection and Dean moves his hold to Castiel’s wrists. _(Everyone I care for is here, Cas. And if they don’t want to stay too, then they can visit me. We’ve got technology that means I can talk to them every day if I want to. I lived for four years without seeing Sam every day and I can have my car shipped to Africa or something if I need to. And I’m a mechanic, I can get a job anywhere. If I get a job, I can get money, find a place to live, get a boat –)_

His chest hurts. It’s twisting tight and painful and his nose is starting to sting – a precursor to tears. Dean’s thoughts are so desperate, so pleading. They’re dragging at Castiel’s mind and he wants to curl around Dean. He wants to ask the question and keep Dean in all the ways Dean is saying that he can if he would just _say it_.

Castiel keeps shaking his head. _(Please, Dean, don’t – we can’t –)_

 _(We_ can _, Cas.)_ Dean crawls forward, settling on his knees across Castiel’s lap before he can stop him. _(Ask me, Cas. Or let me say it. I want this and I know you do too.)_ His hands go to cup Castiel’s jaw and he presses gentle kisses to his mouth. _(I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for weeks or if it’s been months or fucking_ years _. Cas, I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time and I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.)_

Another broken noise squeezes from his throat and Dean muffles it with his lips. Castiel loses himself to the needy kisses for a few moments. Giving as much as he’s taking from them. But it’s wrong of him to do this. He can’t let Dean distract him like this, especially not during such an important conversation. It takes all of his will power to break the kiss, to push Dean away and fill the kin-connection with every reason about his colony that keeps him from asking.

 _(So we’re Romeo and fucking Juliet? We can’t stay together because your family is going to hate me?)_ For a moment, Dean looks hurt before his expression hardens. _(You’re going to let that stop you?)_

Castiel ignores the reference he doesn’t understand, names of people he doesn’t know. _(I – We can’t. There’s more reasons why we shouldn’t. It’s… Please, Dean. Don’t ask me to keep you away from everything you know.)_

He doesn’t want Dean to come to regret the decision. He doesn’t want Dean to regret being with him, to end up hating him.

_(Cas –)_

He pulls Dean’s hands from his neck and he doesn’t look up. He doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face. He hopes that in the morning Dean will have forgotten – forgiven – this conversation and they can be like they had been only a few minutes before. _(You should go to bed.)_

 _(No.)_ Dean jerks his hands free and shoves forcefully at Castiel’s shoulders, pushing him back against the pillows and piled blankets. He’s glaring down at him, stubborn – scared. _(I’m not done talking about this, Cas. We’ve got barely more than a day until Africa and half a week to the islands. I want –)_

Castiel closes the kin-connection. He severs that pulsing, trembling, begging warmth and he’s left alone in his head. He’s left alone in his chest too and he feels so empty. He turns his face away and closes his eyes, fighting the tightness in his throat that’s making it hard to breathe and fighting the tears stinging at his eyes.

He flinches at the whoosh-thud of something – presumably Dean’s fist – hitting the pillow next to his head. Castiel stifles a hiss when Dean’s knees pinch his adipose fins to the floor for a moment before his weight is gone. Even with the hoodie, Castiel feels almost unbearably cold with the heat of Dean’s body gone. The door slams and Castiel flinches from that sound too. There’s another muffled slam and then the world is silent save for the sound of the boat itself and the waves beneath it.

Slowly, Castiel sits up. Shivers make his adipose fins rustle and he draws all the blankets around himself. He even pulls the hood up over his head again. Castiel hugs the fold of his tail to his chest and presses his face into his scales. He spends ages just trying to keep the tears at bay and wishing that he could take it all back, that he could go back to early this morning and never think that thought. He wants Dean out here again, warm against his back, his front, anywhere as long as he doesn’t leave Castiel feeling so empty and alone.

But he’s the one who pushed Dean away. He’s the one who wanted to ask Dean to stay and he’s the one who refused to say it. Even when Dean was willing – almost begging – for Castiel to ask him. For Castiel to validate his decision, because no matter what Castiel does say Dean has already decided. He’s already thinking of plans and it makes Castiel both incredibly happy – _Dean wants to stay with him_ – and more sad than he can ever remember being.

Castiel doesn’t know how the colony will react to his return. He doesn’t know if they’ll even be there. What he does know is that they won’t accept his relationship with a human. Especially not one of the humans who captured him – even if Dean tried so hard to free him. Castiel could lose his family completely if he tells them about Dean. If they don’t exile him, if they don’t kill him to keep the rest of the colony safe, they might never let him leave the trench again.

Anna has always been very protective. The one time that Balthazar had been wounded in battle – nothing more than a gash in his tail that had healed nicely with barely a scar – Anna had almost torn apart the fang-fin who had done it. She had fretted and worried over Balthazar the whole time he was healing and had watched him closely when he was allowed back into battle. There’s little doubt in Castiel’s mind that she – and likely Balthazar too – won’t let him out of their sight for a very long time once he returns.

He sits on the deck until the dry itch of his scales becomes too bothersome. Castiel pushes the blankets and the pillows into the corner closer to the door. He places Dean’s hoodie on it and puts Sam’s watch in the pocket, folding the clothing carefully so the watch won’t fall out. It takes a few fumbling attempts to get the railing’s door open and Castiel closes it gently behind him.

The boat is going too fast for him to slip into the water comfortably. He doesn’t really care if he looks ungraceful, or even if it hurts, and he just rolls from the swim-deck. The blast of pressure from the spinning helicopter-blades send him tumbling head over scales and it’s both disorienting and difficult to breathe through. Once he manages to steady himself, Castiel swims hard to catch up with the boat.

Swimming like this is mindless. Castiel ignores the hunger clutching at his stomach and he swims. He loses himself to the repetitive up-down of his tail, the twitch of his fans and fins that control his direction and he _swims_. He swims not too far beneath the boat and when bright-pearl rises, he does to. Periodically Castiel checks the deck for signs of anyone that he knows – for Dean.

Bright-pearl is much higher from the horizon than Castiel is used to it being when the others wake. Sam steps out onto the deck with messy hair and he’s yawning. He looks around before gathering the items in the corner and taking them back inside. Castiel wonders – hopes – if Dean is going to come outside too when he finds out that he isn’t on the boat anymore.

Dean doesn’t, but Sam does again. He goes straight to the railings and leans on them, looking out over the water. Castiel establishes the kin-connection with him at the same time he breaks the surface with his back-fans to show him where he is.

Relief fills Sam’s words. _(Good morning, Castiel.)_

 _(I don’t believe ‘good’ would be the best word to describe it.)_ He’s careful to keep the kin-connection free of every doubt and unhappy thought in his head as he moves back into the boat’s slipstream.

_(Yeah, it was kind of hard not to notice that when Dean slammed the door so hard Meg nearly fell off her bed.)_

Castiel bites his lip and looks back up at the boat. _(Is he still angry?)_

 _(You could say that.)_ Sam’s annoyance starts to filter into the kin-connection. _(I don’t think he slept last night, and he’s refusing to come out of his bed – he even kicked me when I tried pulling the curtain back to give him the pillows and blankets. And now he’s playing his guitar aggressively. Really, really, aggressively.)_

There’s a moment’s pause before Sam says anything else. _(What exactly happened last night?)_

_(I don’t think I should say anything about it if Dean isn’t speaking of it.)_

_(Okay, okay. What about you? I’m not getting any angry vibes here – actually, I’m not getting much of anything right now. Are you okay?)_ Concern trembles along the kin-connection and Castiel can almost clearly picture the worried expression on Sam’s face.

He doesn’t answer him for a very long time. Long enough for Sam’s worry to triple. When he does, it is only with emotions. It’s just his sadness, his longing and regret, the indecision and all the pain that fills his chest and spirals tightly around his heart.

_(Oh, shit. Was it something Dean did?)_

_(No, it was me.)_

Sam’s skepticism is nearly tangible in the kin-connection. _(Are you sure it wasn’t Dean? He kinda has a history of instigating fights without meaning to and blowing up over the littlest of things.)_

_(If we trace it back to yesterday morning, than it is undoubtedly my fault. You can even ask Dean to confirm it.)_

The kin-connection gets filled with walls, separating Castiel from Sam’s thoughts. A quick check at the surface shows that Sam is no longer on deck. Castiel assumes that he must be talking to Dean and that makes his stomach twist nervously. He doesn’t want Dean to be angry at him for talking about this with Sam – though he didn’t actually mention anything specific.

He wonders if Dean will forgive him for denying them something they both want. But logically – no matter how much he hates it – everything that they have now won’t work when he returns to his colony. Castiel won’t be able to just come and go – even if he tries sneaking away. There are so many responsibilities that he’ll have. He can’t just shirk those to go and see Dean whenever he wants.

It just doesn’t work. No matter how much he wishes that it would, Castiel can’t think of a way to have his family _and_ Dean. And he wishes that the little voices in the back of his head weren’t telling him that with every passing moment he misses his family less and less. He hasn’t stopped loving them and he wants them to know that he’s alive – that he’s safe and that he’s found someone that makes him happy.

Sam’s thoughts open to him again. _(Well that didn’t work. Dean nearly punched me this time. He took his guitar and left.)_

Castiel nearly stops in surprise. _(Left? Left where?)_

 _(I think he’s going to go sulk in Benny’s bunk.)_ Sam’s concern for Dean is almost louder than his curiosity. _(Jess is worried about him too. We can’t help either of you if no one tells us what’s going on.)_

_(I’m sorry.)_

Sam is sitting back out on the deck when Castiel checks again. He has his long legs pushed through the railing and he’s looking out at the ocean in the exact direction of where Castiel is. _(I know my brother. For as pissed as Dean is, he’s pretty sad too. I’m willing to bet that It has something to do with you going home, doesn’t it?)_

_(It does.)_

_(If I guess, will you tell me?)_

_(That could be a very long guessing game.)_ Castiel tries to smile at that, but the feeling isn’t there. He still feels empty. That hollow feeling he had in his stomach when he woke up yesterday has spread to his chest now. It’s the place where Dean’s warmth had pulsed and it’s aching for it again.

 _(I’m very good at guessing – especially when it comes to Dean.)_ Sam’s words turn thoughtful and his thoughts start flashing through quick contemplations. It’s only just wisps of his thoughts that leak into the kin-connection as he thinks. They’re almost too fast for Castiel to keep up with.

_(He doesn’t want you to go home?)_

Castiel brushes the suggestion aside as incorrect and Sam fires off a few more guesses before he gets the correct one. When Castiel hesitates to answer, a mixture of emotions beat against the edge of his mind. There’s anger, and concern and everything in between. Sam blocks his thoughts from Castiel again and he’s gone from the deck when he checks.

Halfheartedly, Castiel tries catching something to eat. He’s getting tired, but he doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want to go back on the boat while Dean is angry at him. And he especially doesn’t want to sit in Dean’s bed, surrounded by his scent, and think about how he might have just ruined everything they had between them. After the fourth fish escapes his fingers, Castiel gives up. He’s not even hungry.

Sam’s thoughts startle him when they speak again in the kin-connection. _(Benny wants to know if you’re going to come back on board today?)_

_(Is Dean still upset?)_

_(Yeah.)_

_(Then no, I won’t be. I’ll sleep down here tonight.)_

For a few moments Sam is silent. Pieces of his conversation get filtered into the kin-connection. It’s enough for Castiel to know that he’s talking with Benny and that Dean is there too. _(Benny says that we’re going to make landfall tomorrow morning. If you don’t want to be swimming in the marina, then you’re going to have to come on board or wait off shore where you don’t run the risk of being seen. We’re going to be in port for a few days to refuel and resupply before we come back out here to head South.)_ He pauses. _(I think Dean wants to know what you want to do.)_

_(That depends entirely upon how angry he’s going to be with me tomorrow morning. I suppose we’ll find out between now and then.)_

The day passes slowly. Sam shares a few things. They are mostly just his frustrated attempts to get Dean to talk. Even Bobby and Jess try a few times, but Dean refuses to say more than a few words to anyone. That doesn’t stop them from trying to speak to _him._

Castiel just swims. He lets the open ocean empty his mind and it’s on reflex and instincts alone that he catches a few small fish to keep his energy up. When bright-pearl finally sinks beyond the horizon and it’s only Castiel’s glow lighting the sea, the boat finally stops. He’s exhausted and his adipose fins are sore when they ripple to keep him floating at the back of the boat.

Dean still hasn’t said anything and Castiel is scared to reach for his mind again. He doesn’t want to feel a flash of anger before Dean forces him from his head. Castiel knows that he hurt Dean by cutting the kin-connection last night and that it probably plays a large part in why Dean is so angry with him now. But after a day of regretting all of it, of being so frightened that Dean would say what Castiel can’t bring himself to, of worrying about everything he might have lost because of that, he just _can’t_ make himself make that link.

He wants to. Mother-sea, he wants to. He wants to apologize, to tell Dean he wants him to stay and that they can find a way. Even though Castiel has no idea how he’ll deal with his family, they can find a way. And even if they can’t, he doesn’t want to lose Dean so soon. He’s already been forced from him too many times by Lilith. Why should he be kept from him again just because of a few fears? A few doubts?

When it’s time to dive, Castiel doesn’t ask for anything beyond the belt with his weapons on it. Sam drops it over board with the information that Dean is going to be spending the night in Benny’s bunk. That sick, worried burn flickers to life in Castiel’s chest again. A boiling, pulsing, angry thing that makes his tongue taste sour. Dean knows Benny from long before he met Castiel and he can’t help wondering if he knows Benny the same way he knew Pamela?

 _(We’ll see you in the morning, okay? Bright and early. Benny wants to get into the marina with the tide.)_ Sam’s message interrupts Castiel’s worries. _(I’ll see you then.)_

 _(Good night, Sam. If you see him again, please tell Dean I – that I’m –)_ There’s too much to say and nothing that he can put into words that Sam could tell Dean without the kin-connection. _(Tell him to sleep well.)_

He dives and breaks the kin-connection with Sam. He dives and he wonders, he hopes, that Dean will want to talk to him in the morning. Even if it’s just to tell him to wait out here while the boat goes inland. Castiel just wants Dean to talk to him. He’s never had so many wants and not being able to act upon them is driving him crazy.

These thoughts plague him through the night. He finds a place to sleep but he’s not sure if he actually does. His body is so tired, but his mind won’t shut off. He keeps thinking about Dean and the fight they had.

The little cave Castiel found to sleep in is almost too small for him to squeeze into. And it’s cold. Everything down here is so _cold_. It doesn’t bother him – it’s just… weird. He never noticed the temperature before. But by the time he thinks morning has come around, he doesn’t feel any more rested then when he laid down.

Castiel slowly drags himself from the small space and he spirals around the anchor, following it toward the surface. His tail feels so heavy – muscles over used and sore from all the swimming he did yesterday. Any fish that he sees along the way are ignored in favour of finding out sooner whether or not Dean is still upset with him. He doesn’t particularly want to be on the boat when it goes closer to land, to more humans – but he doesn’t want to be left behind.

He doesn’t want to be alone.

Dean isn’t on deck when Castiel surfaces. It’s only Sam, Jess and Meg. That hollow space in his chest swells wider, threatening to swallow his lungs like it already has his heart. Castiel pushes that feeling down, hides it away and - almost reluctantly - he touches Sam’s mind. The disappointment and annoyance he finds there makes him cringe.

_(Dean says he’s going into town. There are some things that he wants to get and replace.)_

Castiel lets nothing but his understanding into the kin-connection. He floats, adipose fins rolling to keep him in place, with his eyes and nose above the water. Jess touches Sam’s arm and whispers something in his ear. Sam’s face creases into a frown and he rubs at his forehead.

 _(They’re raising the anchor. If you want to get on, we have to do it now. Otherwise, we’ll be back here tomorrow evening.)_ Sam glances back over his shoulder, toward the open door leading into the boat. _(I’m sorry, Castiel. I’ll talk to him more today, but he’s progressed from being angry to being depressed and he’s harder to handle like this.)_

He shakes his head and forces a smile to his lips. _(I don’t want to be near other boats and even more people. I will wait in the deeps and tomorrow evening I will be right here.)_

The waves rock harder when the engines start up. Jess and Meg lift their hands in ‘goodbye’ when the boat starts moving away. Sam does it once before he goes back inside and Castiel keeps the kin-connection with him for as long as he can.

He spent half the night thinking, whether he realized he was doing it or not. He thought about so much and so little and he’s gone over everything from every angle he can think of.  It’s only now, watching Dean sail away to the dark line on the horizon, watching him _leave,_ that something in his head just seems to _snap_ into place.

_(Sam!)_

There’s surprise in response, faint and strained because of the distance between them. The kin-connection is stretched so thin that it’s going to break at any moment. _(Yeah?)_

 _(Tell Dean I have something very_ important _to say to him when you get back.)_

Sam’s answer – if he gives one – is lost when the kin-connection snaps. Castiel keeps floating until the boat is out of sight and then he just sinks. He rolls backwards and twists down into the deeps where his glow is the only light. He hunts for his breakfast by his glow. He doesn’t go far from the place that he slept last night.

That hollow feeling in his chest is smaller now that he’s made his decision. He knows it won’t go away completely until he sees Dean, until he feels that warmth flowing through their kin-connection again. It’s only that warmth that can fill the empty space behind his ribs. For now, he eats his fill. Castiel is excited for tomorrow evening. He’s excited to ask Dean this new question – and he’s terrified of it. But everything just makes so much more sense now.

He thinks about it all day. While he’s hunting his lunch and afterward, when he finds the perfect stones to use to sharpen his sword and dagger. While he finds a sea sponge to scrub at his scales and a patch of sand to wiggle his back-fans into to clean them. And of course he thinks about it while he’s hunting for his supper too.

The longer he thinks about it, the more he believes that this is the best choice.

It’s still cold when Castiel goes to sleep early in the evening, tucked into the little cave. He curls his tail to block the entrance and he sleeps heavily through the night, comforted by his decision. When morning comes, he sleeps so late that it’s his lunch he ends up hunting when he wakes. Castiel spends the afternoon slowly working through the warrior stretches and he spars with the shadows in his glow.

Evening can’t come quick enough and Castiel catches his supper on his way up. He stays far below the surface and swims in ever widening circles, keeping an eye out for the boat in the direction of the smudge on the horizon. He waits and he waits and he grows more anxious with every little bit of steady-blue that bright-pearl slides through. She’s nearly touching the horizon when Castiel senses the disturbance in the water – the familiar thrum of the helicopter-blades of a boat.

He dives deep enough to stay safe – just in case it’s not Dean. Castiel waits until the boat is almost directly above his head. It looks like Dean’s boat, but Lilith’s boat had looked the same – only bigger – from below too. The engines whirr to a stop and Castiel swims far to one side. Far enough that if he’s spotted he’ll still be able to get away easily.

Castiel is already heading back to the boat before he even comes to a full stop. Dean is standing on the swim-deck, holding onto the railing and looking out across the water. There’s no resistance when Castiel touches Dean’s mind. It opens to him easily, but there are no emotions in it. The walls firmly secured around Dean’s mind are keeping everything hidden from Castiel, even the warmth that the hollow in his chest is craving.

He’s already trying to pull himself up onto the swim-deck before Dean even fully realizes that he is there. Dean curses quietly and then his hands are under Castiel’s arms, lifting him enough so that he can sit on the swim-deck. They get back behind the railing before the engines start again. The boat turns and now the smudge on the horizon is on their left.

They are alone on the deck and Castiel suspects Dean probably asked for the others to give them privacy. He doesn’t sit down next to Castiel, instead leaning back against the rail with his arms crossed and his head tilted back to stare at the white clouds that have filled steady-blue all evening. There is still nothing in the kin-connection.

“Dean?” Castiel asks quietly, reaching out to touch his leg.

 _(Sam said you wanted to ask me something.)_ Dean doesn’t even look at him, side-stepping out of reach.

Castiel’s fans flatten and narrow, his hand dropping to his lap. It’s clear that Dean is still very angry with him. Now he can’t help but doubt how well Dean is going to react to Castiel’s decision. He takes a deep breath to ready himself, sitting up straighter and forcing his fans to spread a little wider so he doesn’t look so dejected.

_(Please listen to what I have to say. You don’t have to give me your answer when I’m done, but I would like you to think about it.)_

_(Just spit it out. I’ve got shit I could be doing.)_

He’s fans flare slightly and he fists his fingers against his scales. _(When I get home, we won’t be able to stay together. My colony would never allow it, even if you did adjust your life to live here. It would be too dangerous for them.)_ Castiel pauses and Dean doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look at him. He swallows around a surge of nervousness. _(You said once that it would be easier to accommodate me into your life than it would be the other way around. If that is still true-)_

The surprise that flares bright enough in Dean’s mind that even around even around the walls protecting it Castiel can still feel it makes Castiel hesitate. Dean has gone still, looking down at Castiel with an expression still held carefully blank. Castiel doesn’t look away and he chokes the kin-connection with his own feelings of warmth. It rolls in heavy waves against the walls as Castiel surrounds every word, every image, every emotion with that bright, pulsing warmth.

_(Let me see my family. Let me show them that I am alive and tell them that I am happy. Let me tell them that I have found someone that I love. Let me have a proper goodbye. And if you’ll still have me, let me stay with you.)_

 


	34. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _(You don’t need to say it, Dean.)_ The building heat between them is more than enough for him. Castiel only puts the feelings into words – both in his language and Dean’s – because humans put so much emphasis on things that are said. Knowing that Dean feels all of that for Castiel satisfies any of his desires to hear him say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: swag—hudson, gentled, swallowstiel, pappcave
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> I’m so sorry for the epic lateness of this chapter. Frank’s funeral was this weekend and it utterly _ruined_ me. And then mother's day happened and that was pretty damn time consuming.

Castiel waits for Dean to say something, to do anything. He’s not even sure if he even breathes, trapped in a moment of stillness under Dean’s green eyes, wide and surprised. If his claws weren’t so blunt right now, they would probably be cutting through his scales with how hard he’s pressing one of his hands into his lap. The other is fidgeting with his adipose fin, rolling and pinching the webbing.

When Dean does move, it’s so sudden that Castiel almost flinches. His heart hurts and he can’t breathe around the tightness in his throat as he watches Dean walk away. He slumps against the railings while Dean crosses the deck in long steps and throws the door open. Sam and Jess nearly fall out of the hallway. They’re both kneeling on the other side of the door and they look up in unison at Dean with wide eyes. Castiel sits up, curious.

“Hey Dean. We – uh – we were just –” Sam clears his throat and looks at Jess.

She looks back at him and shrugs, using his shoulder to help herself get to her feet. “What do you want me to say? It’s pretty obvious that we were spying. So, have you two made up yet?” Jess leans around Dean to wave and smile at Castiel. He lifts his hand in a small acknowledgement and her smile falters when she looks back at Dean. “You haven’t, have you?”

Dean doesn’t really answer, not as far as Castiel can tell. She does take a step back when he looks at her and even Sam seems hesitant to take his hand when Dean offers it to help him to his feet. They both take a step back when Dean points at the stairs, his gesture sharp and quick and his voice sounds angry enough to make Castiel curl his tail closer, shrinking away from it.

“Go.”

Sam looks about as confused as Castiel feels. “Go? Dean, if you’re kicking us out of the room because you and Cas want to –”

“Sam.” Dean says his name so forcefully that Sam shuts his mouth with an audible click. “Shut the fuck up and go.” Castiel flinches at the _rage_ in his voice. “I don’t care what you do – go watch Bobby make doe eyes at Ellen, go hang out with Jo, go drink with Benny, go find a goddamn broom closet for you two to have some alone time – just _go_.”

Jess is the first to react and she starts shoving Sam towards the stairs. “If you wanted to talk to Castiel in private, you could have just said so. No need to be _rude_.”

Dean doesn’t say anything. He glares at them until they’re both up the stairs and out of sight before he comes back to where Castiel is sitting. His hands are rough and Castiel’s objections are ignored when Dean lifts him, carrying him higher than he usually does. Dean’s shoulder is digging into his stomach and Castiel scrabbles at Dean’s back for a proper hold, trying to keep upright instead of being almost upside down. His tail hangs down Dean’s front, his end-fans knocking against Dean’s knees as he walks quickly across the deck and into their room.

He kicks the door shut behind them and Castiel nearly hits his head on the wall when Dean turns around. Castiel registers the click of the lock seconds before his view of the world tilts sharply in a rush and a sharp drop. He’s sitting on the floor before he realizes it, his back to the door with Dean straddling his tail. Dean is watching his fingers intently, working zealously at the buckle of the belt around Castiel’s waist.

 _(What are you doing?)_ Castiel tries to grab his wrists to stop him, but Dean keeps smacking his hands away until he has the belt undone and he can toss it, and Castiel’s weapons, aside.

Dean presses his hands to the door on either side of Castiel’s head and he leans in close enough that Castiel can practically taste each breath he take. There’s something sharp and tangy on every exhale, something Castiel can’t recognize. The kin-connection is still far too quiet for Castiel’s liking, but there’s more being said in Dean’s eyes. He looks so _tired_ and his expression is breaking at the seams. It’s more open than moments ago, less cold, and Castiel can’t find any traces of the previous anger in it.

“Say it again.” Dean says quietly against his mouth, lips brushing his, palms moving to cradle Castiel’s jaw. “Say it again, Cas.”

There are holes forming in the walls around Dean’s mind and the first burning tendrils of the warmth that Castiel craves start to leak through. He clutches at Dean’s sides, curling his fingers in his shirt. _(I never meant to make you feel unwanted, Dean. You have to know that I want you, that you make me happy. I want to stay with you.)_

A soft moan trembles against his lips and Dean kisses him, hard and edged with desperation. There’s another taste on Dean’s tongue, one that Castiel doesn’t recognize. The kiss still steals his breath and he gasps when Dean pulls away, when he begs for him to repeat it again and again. Castiel will say it as many times as it takes for him to understand.

Dean is pressed all along his chest. He’s pinning him to the door and Castiel has his arms around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the short hairs on the back of his head. He traces the curve of Dean’s ears and runs his hands down the back of his neck.

“The other thing – say the other thing.” Dean murmurs, laying kiss after kiss along Castiel’s jaw, finding his side-fans and tracing the spines and webbing with his tongue. “Please, Cas. Tell me what you’re going to tell your family.”

Castiel ‘s side-fans flare into the press of his mouth and he fills the kin-connection with the warmth that burns too brightly in his chest. _(I will tell them that I will miss them, but that I am happy with you. I need you. I feel empty, incomplete, when I don’t have the kin-connection with you.)_ He folds his tail up over Dean’s back, drawing him as close as he can. _(I will tell them that I love you.)_

Dean groans again. It almost sounds wounded and Castiel doesn’t know why he keeps making it when he can clearly sense that Dean is _happy_ through in the kin-connection. He presses his face to Castiel’s neck, nose brushing his gills. Castiel expects to feel lips, or teeth, or even Dean’s tongue. But Dean does nothing more than lean into him, his arms dropping to wrap around his waist.

The walls fall completely long before he pulls away. There’s an odd fog around his mind, but Castiel doesn’t focus on that. He’s too greedy, filling himself with all of Dean’s thoughts and emotions. Dean doesn’t ask Castiel to say anything again, but he sends wave after wave of the warmth and forgiveness into the kin-connection. It’s a tired, genuinely happy smile that stretches across his lips. This time, when they kiss, it’s slow. It has no purpose beyond a physical connection between them and Castiel likes it just as much as he does all the other kinds of kisses that Dean gives him.

When they move to the bed, it’s with slow and fumbling movements. Castiel doesn’t want to let go of Dean and Dean doesn’t seem to want to let go of him. It’s especially difficult for them to move because Castiel refuses to unfold his tail from Dean’s back. It’s been three whole days since he got to feel Dean against him and he is loath to have him pull away again so soon, even if it’s just to make it easier for them to get from the floor to the bed.

Eventually they do manage it in whatever ungainly manner they take. Castiel isn’t too sure. He’s too focused on pushing his arms down the back of Dean’s shirt and spreading his fingers and the webbing between them against the smooth skin of his back. He’s too addicted to feeling the heat of him through his clothing and Castiel hates the shirt and the pants for being between them.

As soon as he feels the bed under him, Castiel pulls at Dean’s shirt. It hits the floor moments later and Castiel spends several minutes just _touching_. He runs his hands over Dean’s arms and shoulders, tracing the scabs of his bite. It’s healing nicely and Castiel is fairly certain that it will leave a small scar. That makes him very happy and he lets the feeling flood the kin-connection, enjoying how Dean smiles into their kisses.

Every touch is measured and smooth. There is no frantic _need_ like before, no worries that this might be the last. They can take their time and enjoy the slow build to their arousal after they’ve pulled the curtain into place. Castiel is barely even hard in his sheath by the time he peels the jeans from Dean’s legs. But that doesn’t change the near reverence he gives when tracing the length of Dean’s body with his mouth and hands.

Dean stretches out on the bed, shoulders curving up the pillows when his feet press against the wall. The extra blankets from the other night are still on the bed, shoved along the wall and into the corners. Castiel purrs his approval while placing new marks along the white insides of Dean’s thighs or the backs of his knees – which earns him a noise not unlike a moan, but it sounds a little like a laugh.

Even though Dean is hard and his erection is resting heavy against his belly, he doesn’t ask for them to go faster. He doesn’t complain about how it’s being neglected. In fact, he seems to be ignoring it completely while Castiel takes even longer than usual to prepare him. It’s been four days since they were last together like this and Castiel wants to make sure that he won’t hurt Dean in any way.

If anything, these slow touches are making Dean react more than he has before. He keeps making humming noises the whole time, his hips rolling to push down against Castiel’s fingers or up into the press of his mouth to the base of his penis. Castiel keeps it slow on purpose, trying to give Dean all the pleasure that he can to show just how apologetic he is.

He slides up the bed to lay along Dean’s side. Dean lifts his leg over Castiel’s hip as he continues to move his fingers, continues to make him groan. Dean is panting and gasping, flushed red everywhere that Castiel touches. He can barely keep still long enough for them to keep kissing.

Ever after Castiel has unsheathed, he is still devoted to giving Dean everything – pushing Dean’s hands away whenever he tries to touch him back. He’s the one who still feels like he needs to earn Dean’s forgiveness, even if Dean has already given it. Castiel kisses Dean around every breath, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip in just the way that Dean likes it, sucking at his tongue whenever Dean attempts to lick out and give as good as he’s getting.

Whenever Dean turns his face away, trying to breathe, trying to center himself, Castiel puts his lips to his ear. He licks and sucks and nips along the edges or at the stretch of skin beneath it. Dean doesn’t stop him from renewing his marks on his neck and across his chest. If anything, he encourages it.

 _(Cas – you –)_ Dean wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, fingers kneading at where his webbing joins to his back. _(There’re two people here – Cas, y’gotta let me – please –)_

 _(Not yet.)_ Castiel rubs his own erection against Dean’s hip to ease the pressure just a bit. _(I hurt you when I never intended to, when I was trying to spare us both from pain. I need to earn your forgiveness properly.)_

He groans, his back arching from the bed when Castiel purposefully, firmly, rubs the pad of his middle finger against that different spot inside of him. Dean fumbles for the condom he’d gotten when he got the lube too, shoving it against Castiel chest. _(You don’t need to earn anything. You already got it, Cas.)_

When Castiel pushes into him slowly, Dean is laying on his side. His back is pressed to Castiel’s chest and he’s holding Castiel’s hip tightly, guiding him to move slowly. Castiel holds Dean’s leg up and out of the way as he moves in shallow thrusts until Dean pushes back harder, pulls at his hip more. It’s a slow and steady rhythm that burns through the core of him.

Castiel covers Dean’s neck and shoulders in quick kisses, licking at the healing scabs and pressing his teeth to his skin. Castiel leaves many new marks along the back of his shoulders; little red lines made by the scrape of his teeth, and splotchy circles of red and purple when he sucks harshly wherever he can reach. His tail twists over Dean’s leg, the end wiggling under to curl around his ankle. When Castiel lets go of his leg, it’s to press his hand to his stomach just shy of where he knows Dean wants it.

“Jesus –” Dean breathes into the crook of his arm. “Are you punishing me for being angry before or something? I thought you were trying to show me you were sorry?”

 _(I am.)_ Castiel smiles against the side of his neck. _(You like it better when it’s slower, more intimate. Although you prefer it when we’re facing each other, you get more pleasure when I’m behind you.)_ He punctuates his statement with a snap of his hips and Dean muffles a pleased noise.

_(How do you –)_

_(I’m observant, Dean. I pick up on things in the kin-connection that you might not realize that you’re sharing. Especially when your attention is-)_ Castiel puts his hand over Dean’s penis, pinning it to his stomach. _(-otherwise occupied.)_

Dean covers his hand, his fingers pressing between Castiel’s and rubbing at his webbing. They don’t say anything more until Dean asks with silent images to change positions. Castiel ends up between Dean’s legs, movements getting harder and sharper the closer either of them gets to completion. His hands are under Dean’s shoulders and Castiel stays propped up on his elbows as his tail curls across the bed. Sometimes it hits the wall and every thump makes Dean’s hand pause where he’s stroking himself between them.

Castiel’s fans flare wide with every gasping moan Dean makes against his mouth. Their kisses are sparse, barely even kisses at all. They’re breathing too hard for that, but Castiel can’t pull his lips away. He needs to make up for every kiss they didn’t have over the last few days. When Dean finally comes, Castiel isn’t more than a few moments behind him.

He pulls out slowly and sits back, removing the condom and throwing it aside as quickly as he can before laying over Dean again. Castiel doesn’t care about the mess on Dean’s stomach or on his hand when he settles against him. Dean’s skin is damp and Castiel licks the sweat from the hollow of Dean’s throat as he presses his nose under his jaw.

Eventually Dean does ask him to roll away. He uses one of the spray bottles on his shirt and uses that like a cloth to wipe them both clean. Castiel waits on the bed while Dean pulls on loose grey pants and unlocks the door. He props it open and steps out into the hallway to open the door that leads outside.

Dean leaves that door open too before he comes back to the bed. _(That should help air the room out so we don’t have to listen to Sam bitch.)_

Castiel sniffs the air. _(I don’t know why they would complain. I don’t mind the smell.)_

 _(Of course you don’t, it’s half you.)_ He laughs and crawls back onto the bed, closing the curtain behind him. _(If you’re going to do your nesting thing with the blankets, do it now.)_

He tilts his head, watching Dean closely as he stretches out on the bed. Dean rolls onto his side, his back to the room and closes his eyes. There’s exhaustion surrounding his mind and Castiel touches at it curiously, concerned.

 _(I haven’t slept in, like, three days and I’ve had way too much to drink over the last few.)_ Dean explains as he hooks his leg over Castiel’s tail, dragging it closer. He sighs and content fills the kin-connection when Castiel curls his tail over and around them, tangling it with his legs. _(I’m going to crash early tonight, okay?)_

Castiel can finally place where he has felt that fog around Dean’s mind before, remembering the night Dean drank the amber liquid. He brushes damp hair from Dean’s forehead before he sits up and gathers the blankets. There are three of them and he tucks one behind Dean. Another gets placed behind him and Castiel pulls the third over them. Dean draws him in tightly against his chest, forcing Castiel to tuck his head under his chin. A loud purr starts to rumble in his chest and Castiel is more than happy to wrap his arms around Dean too. He’s only a little tired, but he thinks he could be easily lulled to sleep by the pull of Dean’s heat and his rhythmic breathing.

Gratitude slips into the kin-connection and Dean runs a hand over Castiel’s side. _(You’re really going to stay with me, Cas?)_

_(Yes, Dean. I want to stay with you.)_

He hums and his arms tighten, pinning Castiel’s back-fans. _(And why do you want to stay with me?)_

Castiel smiles against his collarbone, pulsing warmth through the kin-connection. _(You make me happy and I love you.)_ He receives it in kind; burning streaks that light up their link so brightly that Castiel can almost _see_ it.

There’s silence for a few moments and then Dean squeezes him again, shifting under Castiel’s arm. _(Cas, you know that I – I’m happy too, right? And I -)_

 _(You don’t need to say it, Dean.)_ The building heat between them is more than enough for him. Castiel only puts the feelings into words – both in his language and Dean’s – because humans put so much emphasis on things that are said. Knowing that Dean feels all of that for Castiel satisfies any of his desires to hear him say it.

A brief flare of relief surges through the kin-connection. Dean still shifts again, as if he’s uncomfortable, and rubs his foot against Castiel’s scales. _(About the other night – I should – I need to apologize too. I got angry and that made me stupid. I overreacted, I didn’t stop and think about it from your perspective.)_

Castiel doesn’t interrupt. The thoughts are sleepy and Dean is forcing them out as if they’re something that needs to be said and he doesn’t want to say it. _(I spent the first day thinking you didn’t want me. Then I spent the last two days hating myself. You were barely awake when you shared that you wanted me to stay. I should have known that wasn’t something you would normally say. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.)_

 _(If you hadn’t, I might never have made this decision. I no longer regret saying anything.)_ He tilts his head and presses a kiss to the underside of Dean’s jaw. _(You’re tired and rambling, Dean. Go to sleep.)_

There’s a moment’s hesitation. _(But I didn’t set the alarm.)_

 _(I’ll ask Sam to set it when he returns.)_ Castiel presses another kiss to his neck, over the bruise in the center of Dean’s throat.

Before Dean can say anything more, Castiel starts to sing. It’s quiet and too soft to be heard outside of the bed-cave. It’s nothing more than a gentle lullaby, his favourite. By the time he’s done, Dean is asleep. He’s snoring softly against Castiel’s forehead and everything is his heat and his scent. Castiel stays awake until Sam and Jess have returned, Bobby and Meg with them.

Jess smiles at him when he pulls back the curtain after extracting himself from Dean’s arms. He gestures for them to be quiet so as not to wake Dean. When Castiel touches his mind, Dean is still sleeping soundly, completely unbothered by the noise of the others getting ready for bed.

Castiel holds the phone out to Sam. “Alarm. Please.” Sam hands it back with the alarm set and Castiel places it in the corner of the bed, well within reach for Dean when it is time for them to spray down his scales during the night.

The moment Castiel lays back down, Dean’s arms wind around his waist and pull him close. He makes little snuffling-humming noises against Castiel’s collarbone before he settles again. Castiel only notices that he forgot to close the curtain when Jess leans over to pull it into place.

She smiles at him again and it’s soft, warm. “It’s good to have you back.”

Castiel knows some of those words, enough that he understands what she’s saying. He smiles at her and tucks closer to Dean. “Castiel stay Dean home.”

He doesn’t ask why Jess’s expression flickers, or why Sam’s forehead creases when she looks back at him. And he doesn’t dwell on it after Jess murmurs ‘sleep well’ and closes the curtain. Castiel doesn’t listen to the hushed whispers, too quiet for him to pick out the words that continue long after the lights have turned off. He presses his cheek to the top of Dean’s head, curls his arms around his shoulders, and falls asleep easier than he has the last few nights.

x

 _(What’s this?)_ Castiel picks up a small circle of metal Dean had placed on the ledge by the sink. He doesn’t remember ever seeing it before, and he’s certain that Dean wasn’t wearing it last night. But he’d taken it from the finger between his middle finger and littlest finger when he had washed his hands.

Castiel is sitting to one side of the sink-ledge, trying to leave as much of the sink free as he can for Dean while he brushes his teeth. He’s already finished, having brushed his teeth in the confines of the shower while Dean was doing his business at the toilet with the water running in the sink – since Castiel refused to wait outside.

 _(It’s my mom’s wedding ring.)_  Dean shrugs, tapping Castiel’s hip with the back of his hand to get him to move over just a bit so he can spit into the sink. _(You know, if you were sitting someplace else this would be a lot easier.)_

He tightens his tail around Dean’s leg. _(We’ve already talked about that. Why do you have your mother’s wedding ring?)_

 _(My dad kept it after she died, and I took it when he died. Just so I can have a reminder of them both.)_ Dean leans over and spits into the running water. _(I haven’t been wearing it lately because I’m paranoid about getting it wet, and you and wet go hand in hand. I’m not even sure why I put it on this morning when I’m just going to be taking a shower soon.)_

The ring is a simple silver band with a line etched around it. Castiel thinks it’s very pretty in its simplicity. He turns it over and over in his hand until Dean is finished brushing. They leave the ring on the ledge again and Dean helps Castiel to the floor. While Dean removes his undershorts and starts up the water, Castiel push-pulls himself back to the shower.

This shower takes longer than most of the others they’ve had. Castiel can barely keep his hands to himself. Dean’s legs are long and tempting and he scolds Castiel halfheartedly, at best. He leans into the gentle touches of Castiel’s mouth to his thighs and the slide of his hands along his calves. When Castiel sits higher on the curl of his tail, pressing sucking kisses along the length of his growing erection, Dean rests his arm on the wall and folds forward to lean his forehead against the blue-sleeve covering his cast.

 _(Cas – you shouldn’t – dude, let me get a –)_ Dean’s breathing is coming in quick gasps and he pushes his hand into Castiel’s wet hair.

Castiel ignores him and Dean makes a choked sound when he takes him fully into his mouth. Without the condom, Dean tastes very different. There’s the familiar tang of his skin, the unpleasant flavor of the soap, and something bitter against his tongue. Dean’s fingers curl in his hair, tugging sharp enough to make Castiel’s fans flare and hit the wall.

He works one hand over the length of him that he can’t take. His other hand curls and cups, rolling and rubbing everywhere in accordance to the quiet pleas in the kin-connection.  Pleasure rolls in thick waves between them and Castiel revels in it; in the way Dean subtly rocks his hips and grips at his hair, or runs his hand over his side-fans.

 _(Cas – Cas, stop! I’m gonna – Cas!)_ He pushes Castiel aside and turns away, finishing himself with a few rough strokes.

When Dean looks down, face flushed and still breathing hard, Castiel’s smile is more than a little bit smug. There’s so much _heat_ curling in his belly and the muscles of his sheath keep twitching, but Castiel wants to wait. They can deal with him later. Specifically, he can wait until when he can lay Dean out again and find all the other ways that he can have him.

“You’re – you – you shouldn’t have –” Dean grumbles under his breath while he finishes his shower. _(What have I told you about being_ safe _?)_

 _(Nothing else about your body has hurt me. Why should that?)_  Castiel tilts his head and rubs the end of his tail along Dean’s ankle. _(If you really didn’t want me to do it you would have stopped me, but you didn’t. And you said before that you don’t have any diseases so the only problem really is whether or not_ you _would have a reaction to_ me. _)_

Dean shuts off the water and steps out of the shower. _(We’re going to fight about that until the end of time. Either way –)_ He looks down at Castiel’s lap pointedly. _(You want me to take care of you now?)_

 _(I want to wait.)_ Castiel waves him off while flicking the water from his fans and running a hand through his hair to push it back off his forehead. _(Later.)_

He raises an eyebrow as he starts drying off. _(Are you sure? You’re going to be pent up_ all day. _We won’t be alone together until tonight.)_ Dean gestures at the shower again and Castiel knows he’s talking about when he’ll wet his scales in the shower while Dean brushes his teeth before they go to bed.

It’s better than trying to do it in the bedroom again so soon. Especially with how when they woke up this morning, Sam and Jess had been giving Dean a look. Castiel isn’t sure what the look meant, but Dean had grinned sheepishly and shrugged. There was no explanation that he could give that would have appeased them. And while Dean was getting new clothing from the drawers, Meg had been looking – almost surprised – at the new markings along Dean’s shoulders.

 _(Where do you want to eat breakfast?)_ Dean asks while putting on the change of clothing he’d brought with them. _(In our room? Out on deck? Up on the second deck with the others? I’ll need to put up some shade to keep you out of the sun.)_

Castiel takes a towel to dry his hair and pat down his tail. _(I haven’t caught anything to eat yet. I don’t want to make Benny stop again just so I could get breakfast.)_

 _(Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered. Bobby’s been fishing.)_ Dean grins at him and puts the used towels in the basket under the sink. He gives Castiel the bundle of his sleep clothes and bathroom kit to hold while he carries him back to their room.

As soon as he’s back on the bed, Castiel pushes the blankets around to make a more comfortable space to curl in. They don’t need the third one to cover them since neither of them are going to be sleeping now. Dean is very energetic this morning. He can barely hold still and he’s almost constantly smiling – whether at Castiel or at Sam.

Meg is on her bed, eating things Dean makes a face at. He calls them ‘fruit’ and ‘rabbit food’ and he mutters about how breakfast isn’t breakfast without meat. She’s laying on her stomach and reading a book. That only reminds Castiel that he and Dean haven’t even gotten halfway through the book that they were reading before.

_(After we eat can you read the book?)_

_(Sure. I’m going to go get our food, I’ll be right back.)_

Dean is only gone a few minutes when Sam and Jess return. They each have trays of food and they start up a quiet conversation while they eat. Castiel watches them and he thinks. He wonders if they are going to live with him and Dean when they finally get home too. He’s not sure how he feels about that.  He likes Sam and Jess – they’re nice and they make Dean happy. But he doesn’t want them to be around when he wants to be with Dean in private.

It’s already annoying enough that he can’t just touch Dean whenever he wants to now, not like he could back in the small-sea room on Lilith’s boat. On this boat there is always the chance that someone will be in this room, or they’ll want to come into the room, and it’s _bothersome_. Especially since the others don’t want them to have sex in the room they share anyways.

But now Castiel wonders what Dean’s home is like. Dean hasn’t told him anything about where he lives. Castiel knows where and how he _used_ to live, and he knows that Bobby has a house that Dean likes to stay at sometimes. Dean hasn’t told him about where Sam and Jess live either. He doesn’t know where they’re going to live, or what the waters are going to be like around it.

There are so many things Castiel doesn’t know about what’s going to happen after he says goodbye to his colony. And as worrying as that is, as much as it makes something light and nervous flutter through his chest and stomach, as much as it causes his adipose fins to ripple, he doesn’t mind it. As long as he’s with Dean, Castiel is positive that everything will be fine.  

Dean brings back a tray just for him. There is a plate with crunchy bread on it and another with a flat piece of fish already cut into strips. Dean has a pile of thick, pale, round things covered in a viscous brown liquid. There are a few strips of bacon and Dean lets Castiel have a bite and try a small piece of what he calls a ‘pancake’. It’s light and fluffy and Castiel wants more. He tries to convince Dean to trade a whole pancake for a few strips of fish.

It’s not surprising that Dean refuses.

From what Castiel has seen, humans eat all their meat cooked. They don’t like it raw. He wonders if there is going to be lots of fish to eat where Dean lives. Will he be able to hunt or will food be provided for them like it is here on the boat? He could easily ask Dean all these questions that keep floating around in his head, but Castiel prefers to save all of them for the trip from the colony to his new home.

More than once, while they’re all eating breakfast, Castiel catches Sam doing something with his eyebrows at Dean. But Dean seems to be resolutely ignoring it. He’ll look everywhere in the room except for at Sam. Although, by the time Dean shares the last half of his final pancake with Castiel, Jess is making the same expression.

 _(Why are they doing that?)_ Castiel pushes the images into the kin-connection, ringing them with curiosity.

 _(It’s their not so subtle way of saying there’s something they want to talk to me about.)_ Dean takes Castiel’s tray once it is empty and stacks it on top of his own. _(I have no idea what it is, but it’s fucking annoying. They should just come out and say what they have to say.)_

_(Why don’t you ask them?)_

Dean stands up, balancing the trays in one hand as he offers to take Sam’s and Jess’s as well. _(Because I’d bet my left nut that they want to talk in private.)_

_(And by that you mean that they don’t want to talk in front of me.)_

_(Seems like, yeah.)_

Castiel feels a little hurt by that. What could they want to talk to Dean about that they couldn’t say in front of him? It’s not like he’ll understand most of what they say – not unless Dean translates it for him. His side-fans narrow and flatten, and his back-fans fold tight to his back. Dean looks over his shoulder at the small amount of the sadness that Castiel lets into the kin-connection knowing that he’s going to be left out of something again.

 _(Depending on what it’s about, I’ll let you know after, okay? It’s probably just going to be a huge lecture on having sex in the room again.)_ He grins at Castiel and winks. _(Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.)_

As soon as Dean leaves, Sam gets up and follows him. Jess watches after them, her lips pressed in a thin line. The kin-connection lights up with Dean’s irritation moments before walls slide into place to keep Castiel from feeling his emotions and the conversation. Castiel watches the door and wishes he could move around in dry places like the boat as easily as Dean does. As much as he likes it when Dean carries him, if someone doesn’t help him then he can’t move around without difficulty. It takes a long time for him to push-pull himself on the floor in an awkward kind of crawl.

“It’s okay, Castiel.” Jess says and Castiel looks to her.

She is smiling at him softly and he thinks about making the kin-connection with her but decides against it. Dean said that he would be coming back soon and Castiel doesn’t want to have excess noise in the kin-connection while Dean is reading more of the book to him.

He acknowledges Jess with a dip of his head. While he waits for Dean to come back, Castiel slips to the floor. He sits on the curl of his tail and moves his weapon-belt out of the way so he can pull Dean’s guitar case out from under the bed. The clasps that keep it closed are simple enough to figure out and Castiel opens the case slowly, not wanting to damage anything.

There are no more clothes in the case and the items that he’d seen in the hidden top are now squeezed into the open space under the thin stick-part of the guitar. The strings are back on it and Castiel plucks at them experimentally for a few moments. One of the items under the thin part is the book and Castiel carefully extracts it from underneath the guitar. He puts it up on the bed before he searches through the case for the other condoms Dean had kept in here before.

They’re not in the part of the case where the guitar is kept. He runs his hands along the top of the case, looking for the hidden tab he had seen Dean pull before to open it. The false top pops open easily and there are fewer condoms there than he remembers seeing before. He counts how many they’ve used since and he can’t rightly recall. But he knows that Dean has stopped wearing one himself, probably to cut down on how many are being used.

Castiel takes a few of them and places them next to the book. He knows Jess sees them when she starts giggling, and Meg must look too because she groans. Once the case is back under the bed, Castiel moves the condoms to under Dean’s pillow and he struggles slightly to get onto the bed by himself. Dean still isn’t back by then and Castiel touches at the edge of his mind with curiosity. The walls drop enough for a soothing warmth to respond, brushing aside his worry.

_(Just talking with Sam. We’ll be back soon.)_

_(Is it a bad conversation?)_

Dean silence is answer enough and Castiel’s adipose fins flutter nervously.

Jess has Meg’s laptop out and the tapping of her fingers on the buttons is a background sound Castiel barely acknowledges. His stomach is twisting and he wants to know _what_ Dean and Sam are talking about. Everything had been going so well since last night. Dean was happy, Castiel _is_ happy. He doesn’t want something Sam says to mess all that up.

What he needs to do is to take his mind off of it. If he can forget it, then he won’t worry about it. If he doesn’t worry about it, maybe he can distract Dean from it when he returns.

“Jess?” He asks quietly. She looks up from the computer and he points at it. “Music please?”

She smiles brightly and glances down at the screen. A few clicking taps later and what humans consider ‘music’ starts playing. Castiel shakes his head. “No. Led Zeppelin. Ramble On. Please?”

He’s more than a little proud that he managed to memorize the name of Dean’s favourite song, even though the syllables and letters sound odd on his tongue. It’s worth it. Especially when Jess looks to him in evident surprise and Meg lowers her book, peering down at him from over the edge of her bed with her eyebrows raised.

The song starts and Castiel recognizes it from the time Dean played it on his guitar. Almost immediately he decides that he likes how Dean sings it better. Castiel lays on his stomach with his face buried in Dean’s pillow, breathing his scent and listening to the lyrics. He vaguely remembers what they mean, but it’s not their meaning he’s interested in right now. It’s the words themselves. The shape and sound and rhythm of them.

When the song ends, Castiel lifts his head. “Again. Please.”

Jess looks at him curiously and there’s a moment of silence. The song fills the room again and Castiel listens. By the fourth time he has Jess play the song – Meg having left the room halfway through the third time – Castiel is mouthing the words, stumbling over the way they’re formed. It gets easier through the fifth, sixth and seventh times. Whenever he says ‘again please’, Jess’s expression gets more and more closed off. The curiosity is long gone and now Castiel thinks it’s _sadness_ he sees in her eyes.

He stops looking at her when he asks.

Sam returns during the eleventh time and Jess lets the song end before she closes the computer. She and Sam speak quietly to each other and when Castiel peeks from the pillow, Sam looks agitated. He seems unhappy and he tries to force a smile when he looks up to find Castiel watching him.

Before he can touch Sam’s mind with his concern, Dean walks in. He doesn’t so much as look at or speak to Sam or Jess. The walls are still in place around Dean’s mind when Castiel reaches through the kin-connection for him. They’re stronger and more firm than before, a solid barrier between him and Dean’s emotions. Even the warmth he spent the last few days craving is gone again.

Castiel doesn’t know what Sam could have said or done to make Dean close himself off like this. Sam won’t meet his eyes when he looks to him, searching for an answer. Briefly, Castiel feels a surge of anger at him. Everything had been so _good_ since last night and whatever Sam did might have ruined it completely.

Dean grabs a few of the blankets, unsettling Castiel from the little nest he’d made. He also takes the pillow he isn’t laying on and he folds that into the blankets. Castiel sits up and carefully holds the book out to him. It makes Dean stop. He looks from the book to Castiel and something in his expression shifts, it splinters and there’s a sudden rush of warmth that claws its way back into the kin-connection. It sweeps into Castiel, filling all the hollows in him that it leaves when it isn’t there.

He takes the book and adds it to the fold of blankets. Dean’s movements are slower now, more controlled. They were sharp and angry only moments ago. He gets a folded item of clothing from the drawers and Castiel accepts it and the wrap of blankets, holding them tightly to his chest when Dean pulls him to the edge of the bed. Dean lifts him, careful not to hit his head on the bed above theirs.

“Dean –” Sam says quietly, standing up.

“Don’t.” Dean says over his shoulder. It’s a harsh syllable that makes Sam flinch back as if he’d been hit. Jess takes his hand and Sam sinks to sit next to her.

There are a few people in the hallway and they pay as much attention to Castiel as he does them. Dean goes out onto the deck. Bright-pearl is high in steady-blue and Castiel squints in the sudden light. There are two chairs sitting at the back of the deck by the railings and a bag is set next to them. Dean puts him down and gives him the bag.

_(Hand me what I ask for when I ask for it, okay?)_

It’s the first words that Dean has said and they sound bland. They lack any emotion and even though Castiel has the warmth, he still wants everything else. He watches Dean closely as he moves the chairs a precise distance away from the railings. Castiel hands him a few of the items that he calls ‘clamps’ – though they don’t look anything like the clamps that had held the bars together over small-sea – from inside the bag. He uses those to secure one of the blankets to the tops of the chair. Another two clamps pins the blanket to the top railing.

The other blanket makes up the place where they’re going to sit and Dean crawls under this new kind of cave ahead of Castiel. He sits with his back to the wall and gestures for him to join him. Castiel places the items he still holds under the chair. Dean pulls him against his chest once he’s within reach. He’s really not expecting the kiss, and especially not how frantic it feels.

“Dean?” Castiel murmurs, cupping his cheek the moment the kiss breaks. _(What did Sam say?)_

 _(Nothing. He said fucking_ nothing _.)_ Dean’s answer cuts through the kin-connection with a ruthless finality.

Castiel gets the feeling it isn’t him that Dean is trying to convince of this. Despite his almost overpowering curiosity, he doesn’t press further. He wants to, badly, but the way Dean looks at him with an almost silent plea not to ask – he can’t bring himself to say anything more. Castiel’s lips press into a line and he sighs. He nods and Dean relaxes marginally against him, thankfulness flitting along the pulsing waves of warmth in the kin-connection.

The folded clothing ends up being the sweater Castiel wore when he had been sick. Dean helps him into it, claiming that it will be of more help to protect Castiel from the sun. They sit with his back to Dean’s chest, his chin on Castiel’s shoulder. Before Dean starts reading, he takes another picture of them with his phone. He encourages Castiel to keep his tail in the shadows made by the blanket-cave and reminds him that if he starts to feel dry at all that he needs to let him know immediately. As Dean reads, he murmurs the words so Castiel can hear how they sound.

Dean reads until he’s uncomfortable and they change positions. He spaces the chairs out more and uses the second blanket to extend their area of shade so they can lay down. They stay like that until lunch time, stretched out side by side with Castiel’s head on Dean’s shoulder and his tail covering his bare legs – he’s wearing his swim-shorts and Castiel likes it.

Castiel watches the churning water beyond the swim-deck while he waits for Dean to return with their lunches. Dean isn’t gone long and he comes back with the spray bottles. He helps Castiel out of the sweater and empties both bottles, spraying him down from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. Dean goes to fill them again while Castiel puts the sweater back on, the fabric clinging to his damp skin.

They watch the ocean while they eat. For Castiel it’s just more fish, but Dean has things he calls ‘tacos’. They are crunchy and full of flavoured meat, cheese and different kinds of vegetables. Dean only shares some of it, picking out the largest pieces of the vegetables, claiming that they are very ‘spicy’ and might be too much for Castiel’s stomach to handle.

Castiel dozes off for a bit while they read through the afternoon. Bright-pearl makes the air warm, but the world-breath is cooling over his scales. With Dean’s heat next to him, it’s hard not to sleep. He’s not sure when Dean stopped reading, but when Castiel wakes up the kin-connection is almost silent. There are still the quiet thoughts that roll underneath it all as if Dean were sleeping, but Dean is staring up at the roof of their blanket-cave.

_(Are you willing to talk about it now?)_

_(There’s nothing to talk about.)_ Dean replies immediately and his arm tightens around Castiel’s shoulders. _(Leave it alone.)_

_(You said that you would tell me.)_

_(I said I would tell you depending on what it was. It’s not something that you need to know about.)_ Dean rolls over, curling closer and pushing his nose into Castiel’s hair. _(Seriously, let it go.)_

Castiel runs his over Dean’s side, trying to be comforting in the small touch. _(I’m just trying to understand, Dean. You’re upset and I don’t know what I can do to help you. Please, let me help.)_

There’s silence, so much silence that Castiel thinks he might suffocate in it. He keeps touching, keeps pressing closer. His hand gets under Dean’s shirt, fingers spreading in the small of his back. His mouth finds Dean’s collarbone and he kisses along it. Nothing changes in the kin-connection, but Dean’s fingers tighten on his arm.

“Please, Dean.” Castiel murmurs against his skin. _(Tell me. I won’t get mad, I promise.)_

 _(I’m not worried about you getting mad, Cas.)_ Dean draws away slowly, sitting up.  _(It was just family shit. It’s not important.)_

Castiel sits up too and he touches Dean’s hand lightly. _(I’m leaving everything that I know because I want to be with you. I’m leaving my_ family _to be with you. If you don’t think of me as part of your family too, than what am I?)_

Dean turns his hand over, fitting their fingers together as easily as they can with Castiel’s webbing in the way. He leans heavily into Castiel’s shoulder and Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s. _(Of course you’re family, Cas. Me, Sam, even Jess and Bobby, we all think that. But this – there are just some things I gotta keep between me and Sam.)_

He hates that he can’t determine if Dean is lying or not. Too much is hidden from the kin-connection for him to be able to tell.

 _(You could have just said that from the start.)_ Castiel smiles, tilting his chin and kissing Dean softly. _(I can’t say that I’m happy Sam said something to upset you and you’re not telling me anything that I could do to help. But I do have five older siblings, Dean. I can understand a secret between brothers.)_

He laughs lightly against Castiel’s lips, humming and leaning into the kiss. Castiel can feel Dean trying to smother his memories and feelings about the conversation with Sam. He can feel how Dean seals that part of his mind from the kin-connection and lets all the other emotions flow back into their link. It feels wonderful.

The kisses last long enough for Castiel’s thoughts to clear of his worries and he curls his tail around Dean’s hips. _(There is something I would like to try to cheer you up.)_

He leans back and raises his eyebrows, curiosity slipping into their link. _(Oh really? Like what.)_

His laughter echoes over the waves when Castiel starts singing Ramble On. 


	35. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence falls on the other side of the curtain moments before it’s pulled open and the walls around Dean’s mind shift. They drop in places and grow tighter in others. Dean is smiling when Castiel looks up at him, but the smile is forced. Even Sam’s and Jess’s look strained. They’re all trying to pretend they weren’t almost shouting at each other and Castiel doesn’t like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: themothandthestars, izzraphale, scarf-predilection, kairron, and gahyouresoawesome
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapters._

_(Please tell me you’re not being creepy and watching me sleep.)_

Castiel has his chin in his hands, elbows on the bed. He tilts his head and probes curiously at the dissipating sleep fog around Dean’s mind. _(Did I wake you?)_

 _(The alarm woke me.)_ Dean withdraws his hand from under the pillow, the phone held loosely in his fingers. It vibrates in intervals until he turns it off and puts it away again.

He yawns and Castiel dims his glow so it doesn’t hurt Dean’s eyes when he opens them. Castiel sits up and gets the spray bottles from the corner of the bed while Dean stretches and mumbles as he wakes himself up.  Dean sits up slowly, scratching at the red marks littering his chest. He brightens his glow slowly, a little bit at a time, and smiles at the marks as he gives Dean one of the spray bottles.

Castiel had managed to leave several new ones last night after Dean was done brushing his teeth and before they’d been interrupted. According to the female who knocked at the door, the other bathroom was ‘out of order’ all evening and no one was allowed to tie up the other one. Which meant that no one was allowed to take showers last night. While Dean had taken Castiel back to their room, he’d been grumbling about how it would have been nice if someone had told them that and he’d apologized several times to Castiel for not be able to have their promised alone time.

 _(How come you’re awake, Cas?)_ Dean moves to sit behind him so he can work on spraying down his side and back-fans.

He curls his tail in front of him and starts spraying his scales. _(I haven’t been awake long. Just a little while before you, actually. I was waiting to fall back to sleep.)_

 _(Why? Bad dreams?)_ Dean’s fingers guide Castiel to tilt his head and flare his fans as necessary. _(Or is it because we weren’t able to finish what we started earlier? If you hadn’t shot down the storage closet idea, we could have –)_

_(I told you, it would have been uncomfortable for the both of us.)_

_(Dude, you’ve been blue balling since yesterday morning.)_ Dean pushes at his shoulders to make him lean forward and give his back-fans the room to spread. _(It’s not good to hold it In, you know.)_

Castiel  shrugs as he rubs water into his adipose fins. _(I’m used to not doing anything. And there’s always tomorrow. Will the other bathroom be fixed?)_

 _(Maybe. Depends if Bobby is the one who takes care of it.)_ Dean starts working water into his back-fans and Castiel is well aware of how he’s being very attentive to where the webbing joins his back. It’s sending shivers under his skin and makes it hard to focus. _(If not, I could say that I’ll take care of it and then we can lock ourselves inside there for an hour. )_

 _(I won’t make it until then if you insist on touching me like that.)_ Castiel flicks his back-fans to knock Dean’s hands away.

All that gets him is Dean forcing them flat and pressing his mouth to the back of Castiel’s neck. _(Well, if you can’t hold out until then, I could always take care of you right now.)_

_(Dean. The others are –)_

_(Sleeping. And I’m still pissed at Sammy.)_

Castiel turns and Dean presses kisses along his shoulder. _(Are you suggesting that we have sex in the same room as the others just to get back at Sam for whatever it was that he said that upset you earlier?)_

 _(That’s one way of putting it.)_ Dean puts his lips and tongue to the webbing of his back-fans. _(You’re not the only one who got cut off at the balls last night. C’mon, Cas. We’ll have to be quiet. Don’t want to wake them up, do we? Do you think you can keep quiet while I’m touching you?)_

He slides his hands along Castiel’s side, nails raking over his glow. His tail uncurls sharply, whipping across the bed as his back arches and a small gasp leaves him. Dean grins against his back and his hands dance over Castiel’s hips and along his stomach. Castiel’s spraying stutters, and he drops the spray-bottle when Dean’s fingers travel up his chest and tease at his nipples.

The whole time, Dean sucks and licks at his back-fans. Castiel grabs Dean’s knees, his legs on either side of his tail. He holds them tightly, trying to find a balance between giving Dean the room to lick along his back-fans and leaning into his stroking, pawing, pinching hands. His breathing turns ragged when one hand drops to rub at his sheath, Dean’s thumb pressed firmly against the slit.

Dean’s teeth dig into the back of his neck and the sound Castiel makes is smothered by Dean’s hand. _(Quiet, Cas. I said quiet.)_

 _(It is very hard when you keep_ touching _me.)_

 _(That’s the whole point. If we’re not careful, we could be caught at any moment.)_ Dean grins into his skin and a thrill spirals through the kin-connection, soaked with warmth and desire.

He coaxes Castiel’s penis out of his sheath slowly, dragging his fingers along every new inch that slides out. Dean runs his thumb over the bumps and his mouth moves to Castiel’s side-fan. Sitting like this means Castiel can’t touch Dean and he can feel Dean’s erection pressing against his scales. His groans are muffled under Dean’s fingers as he teases and strokes.

Castiel pushes various images and suggestions into the kin-connection, trying to convince Dean to move, to change how they’re sitting so he can _touch_. He wants to pull the same muffled sounds from Dean’s throat. He wants to put his mouth to Dean’s skin and taste the tang it takes when Dean gets excited. He wants to _kiss_ Dean.

He refuses. If Castiel tries to turn Dean just presses closer against his back to hold him in place. There’s heat burning against Castiel’s back and searing under his skin, swirling through his stomach and under his scales. Not once does Dean move his hand from Castiel’s mouth, his thumb pressed along the side of his nose. His hips keep rocking, pushing into Dean’s hand and back against his erection.

Dean doesn’t let go, doesn’t stop, until Castiel’s head tips back against Dean’s shoulder. His blunt nails are longer now, but they haven’t become pointed, he hasn’t sharpened them yet. Castiel digs them into Dean’s leg when he orgasms, tail moving across the bed in sporadic arcs and pushing the blankets out of reach. He folds forward, gasping for breath as Dean lets go. His head is ringing with the white noise that fills it and he barely notices the shuffling behind him.

A hand on his chest pulls him back against Dean’s front and the no-sleeve white shirt that Dean had been wearing is rubbed over his stomach and scales, cleaning away his release. Castiel is loose limbed and barely aware of what’s going on. He was sleepy to start with and now he can barely keep his eyes open. But he needs to. Dean hasn’t been taken care of yet.

 _(Don’t you worry about doing anything for me, Cas.)_ Dean presses kisses over Castiel’s gills as he rolls them. _(You just lay here and be your gorgeous self.)_

Castiel hums quietly into the pillow, curling his fingers in the sheets as Dean’s weight settles partway down his tail and he starts thrusting in earnest against the swell of his tail. He covers the back of Castiel’s neck in gentle and sucking kisses. His hands find Castiel’s, fingers curling over his and pressing in on the webbing. He’s breathing heavily against the back of Castiel’s neck and across his shoulders. But Dean is almost too quiet, rocking only enough to get the movement he needs and not make the bed squeak. Castiel likes it better when he can hear all the noises Dean makes.

 _(Hey, hey, Cas, turn here.)_ Dean pulls him up, turns his head to the side with a hand cupping his jaw and Castiel’s sound of surprise is lost to the lips that slant over his own. It’s a messy kiss that Castiel can hardly breathe through but it starts to stir heat in his belly again.

Dean pulls away eventually and Castiel drops back to the pillow, muffling his labored breathing with the pillow. He feels Dean lift up behind him and he’s not sure what’s happening until something too warm hits his scales and the small of his back. Dean sighs softly behind him and Castiel twists, looking over his shoulder to watch him use the no-sleeves shirt to clean his back.

 _(Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that.)_ He gives an apologetic grin that cracks around a yawn and he throws the shirt to the end of the bed. _(You can go back to sleep now. I’ll finish spraying you down.)_

 _(That’s wouldn’t be fair for you.)_ Castiel leans on one elbow and starts groping blindly for one of the spray-bottles.

Dean presses a kiss to the back of Castiel’s head as he pulls his hand back and pushes it against the pillow. _(Dude, I can_ feel _how sleepy you are. Let me do it.)_

Castiel tries to object but Dean continues to brush off everything he says as he works water into Castiel’s scales. It’s a rhythmic touch and Castiel is asleep before Dean finishes. He doesn’t wake up until there are sharp voices muffled through the curtain.  

“Dean, if you would just –”

“Listen? I _am_ listening, Sam.”

“No, you’re _not_! We don’t even know if he can breathe in fresh water. You really think Cas is going to be okay with never getting to swim again?”

“And I told you that we’re gonna figure it out!”

Castiel sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He knows the voices, but the words are rushed and hard to understand. He can only pick out a few of them that he knows and none of it makes any sense to him. He can feel Dean through the kin-connection, but the walls are between them again.

“Figure out _what_ , Dean? How you’re going to keep him a secret from every neighbor or visitor you have? How is how he’s going to live with _you_ any different than how he would have lived with _Lilith_?”

“Oh, so now I’m no better than _her_?”

“That’s not what we’re saying, Dean. Would you just –”

“Sam and me, we went over all of this yesterday, Jess. I’m happy – Cas is happy – we _both_ want this. Why can’t you two just leave it the fuck alone?”

“And we’re _happy_ that you’re happy. We really are, Dean. It’s great seeing you – the both of you – happy after all the shit that everyone went through with Lilith. But we just want you to under _stand_ and _think_ first. What if Cas misses his family too much? What if you two fight?”

“Sam –”

“What if this isn’t _forever_ and you break up? Castiel can’t just _leave_. Everything that he’ll have is _you._ I hate having to be the voice of reason for this, Dean, but it needs to be said. You need to talk to him – God _dammit_ , Dean! Don’t turn away from me!”

“Shut _up_ , Sam.Cas is awake.”

Silence falls on the other side of the curtain moments before it’s pulled open and the walls around Dean’s mind shift. They drop in places and grow tighter in others. Dean is smiling when Castiel looks up at him, but the smile is forced. Even Sam’s and Jess’s look strained. They’re all trying to pretend they weren’t almost shouting at each other and Castiel doesn’t like that.

_(G’morning, sleepy-head. Ready for breakfast?)_

_(You were fighting.)_

Dean’s smile slips and he glances back at Sam. _(Yeah, well. Brothers fight. It happens and it’s nothing to worry about.)_

_(I heard my name. And Lilith’s. What were you fighting about?)_

“Shit.” Dean mutters, and he runs a hand over his face. _(It’s the same as yesterday, Cas. Just – it’s between me and Sammy. It’s a brother thing again, okay?)_

 _(No. Not okay.)_ Castiel grabs his wrist to keep him from pulling away. _(I want to know what’s going on. If you won’t tell me, then I’m going to ask Sam. If Sam won’t tell me, I’ll ask Jess. Or Meg, or Bobby, or Benny, or anyone else who might know what  is going on. And if that doesn’t work, I will_ take _the information that I want.)_

Dean jerks his hand free and glares at him. Castiel matches his hard stare. This is not what he wanted to wake up to this morning and he _hates_ being left out of things. He made an exception yesterday because it was a secret between brothers. But today they were talking loud enough for anyone to have heard – including Meg, who is still in her bed if the closed curtain is anything to go by. And Jess is sitting right there. She was even participating in part of the fight that he had heard. Everyone knows except for him and Castiel won’t allow for it anymore.

_(I thought you said that was against your code? That you don’t fuck with other people’s minds just because you can?)_

_(It is. And I’ve broken that rule enough times already because of you, Dean. What’s one more time?)_ Castiel reaches for him again. _(Tell me. Please?)_

His hand drops to his lap when Dean severs the kin-connection. He says Dean’s name once, quiet and hurt, but Dean ignores it. Dean ignores Sam’s curious look and the second time that Castiel calls his name when he stands and leaves the room. Castiel flinches as he slams the door behind him. Sam looks to Castiel expectantly, curiously.

He hasn’t made the kin-connection with anyone else besides Dean since the day the x-rays were taken. Once Castiel makes the link with Sam, it takes him a few moments to adjust to the different way of speaking, of thinking. With Dean, the thoughts, emotions, translations - they’re all seamless. They flow so easily because they’re so used to speaking to one another. With Sam it’s – well, Sam isn’t particularly _bad_ at it. He’s just had much less practice.

That’s Castiel’s fault, and it was rather rude of him. He could have had the kin-connection with everyone all the time and relieved Dean of having to translate everything and speak for him. Castiel isn’t sure if it was laziness or selfishness or something worse that made him think like that. He doesn’t know if he wants to know the answer to that.

 _(What did you say to him?)_ Sam asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.

Castiel looks toward the door, adipose fins rippling uneasily. He made Dean mad and having Dean upset with him has his stomach twisting and his chest aching. _(I wanted to know what you were all fighting about.)_

“Well thanks for confirming that he really didn’t talk to you about anything yesterday.” Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Castiel replays the memory of only minutes ago for him and Sam winces. “Yeah, threatening Dean doesn’t usually work all that well.”

 _(He’s left me out of too many things. I understood that all of those were for good reason. And I can understand a secret between brothers. But Jess and Meg and whoever else overhead it –)_ Castiel gestures sharply at the door to make his point. _(- knows what you were saying and I am_ tired _of being left out, Sam. What are you fighting about? What does Lilith, what do_ I, _have to do with it?)_

Sam hesitates. He looks over his shoulder at Jess. “I don’t know if I should tell you. That’ll probably just piss Dean off more. It’s really not our place to talk to you about it.”

 _(But it’s your place to talk to_ Dean _about it?)_ Castiel doesn’t bother hiding his upset, his frustration with everything.

_(I’m his brother. It’s my job to step up and remind him about the things he might be forgetting or hasn’t thought about yet.)_

_(And what about Jess? Or Meg? They’re not Dean’s family.)_

Sam rubs a hand over his face and Castiel can see the similarities between the brothers in the gesture. And he can see – feel – the irritation. _(Jess_ is _family. We couldn’t help that Meg overheard. But she’s thinking the same as we are. Everyone is. It’s only you and Dean who aren’t seeing the whole picture because you’re too wrapped up in each other.)_

Castiel bares his teeth and barely suppresses a snarl. _(What’s that supposed to mean?)_

_(I shouldn’t be the one talking to you about this.)_

He slams his hands down on the bed and his tail beats against the floor where it’s hanging over the edge. _(Why do none of you ever_ tell _me anything?)_

“It’s something that you and Dean need to discuss. Not you and me.”Sam sighs and sits back, running his hand through his hair again.

Jess lays a hand on his shoulder and smiles at Castiel sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Castiel.”

He snarls again and looks away in disgust. Castiel is annoyed, he’s angry and upset and he should just reach into Sam’s memories and find the ones that would explain all of this to him. What Sam means, what he and Dean spoke about, _everything_. He could, but he won’t.

 _(Are you hungry?)_ Sam offers quietly. _(Ellen has a filet for you.)_

 _(No. I don’t want to be here right now.)_ Castiel slips to the floor and grabs his belt. He buckles it on and starts push-pulling himself to the door. _(I’m going to swim until the rest of you stop being – stop being such –)_ He pauses and digs through the knowledge he has of the words that humans use. _(- until you stop being such_ assbutts _.)_

Surprise flickers along the kin-connection. “… Assbutt?” Sam says it curiously and he glances at Jess once before he stands.

Castiel hisses at him and Sam hesitates, dropping to sit again. He push-pulls himself to the door and sits on the curl of his tail to turn the handle and open it. The hallway has a few people in it but Castiel ignores them, ignores the strain it is on his arms to move the short distance to the outside door and open it too, ignores how his scales catch on the deck as he slides to the railing.

He’s on the swim-deck when he hears footsteps and voices. Castiel looks over his shoulder and Dean is stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Jo right behind him. Dean looks surprised to see Castiel sitting outside the room. He has a tray in his hands and something sharp twists behind Castiel’s sternum when he realizes that it’s his breakfast, that Dean went and got it for him even though they’re both angry.

Logically, he should wait. He should sit here and let Dean bring him the food and see if Dean is going to apologize or if he should be the one to express his regret at threatening to violate the kin-connection in such a horrible way. He would never actually abuse Dean’s trust like that.

Castiel can feel the spray from the waves on his scales, but he hesitates from rolling over the edge. He cautiously reaches for Dean’s mind and when he touches it, Dean accepts the kin-connection without reservation. But there are more walls around his mind again. They hide the warmth he wants to feel. They hide everything but what little he needs to communicate.

 _(What are you doing?)_ Dean asks as he takes another step down the stairs.

Even though Dean’s emotions are blocked from him, Castiel is still sharing his and he lets all his anger and frustration pour against the walls. _(I’m going to swim.)_

_(I got your breakfast.)_

_(Are you going to tell me what I want to know?)_

Dean licks his lips and looks away. It’s all the answer that Castiel needs and he cuts the kin-connection again. He dives from the swim-deck, rolling away as soon as he hits the water. Castiel takes a moment to orient himself and he follows after the boat soon. Dean is standing at the edge of the deck and Castiel angles deeper so he won’t be able to see him. It’s spiteful and childish, but he _wants_ Dean to worry.

Castiel swims the whole day and he thinks about the words he heard Sam and Dean say. He tries to remember if he knows their meanings and tries to piece them together into anything coherent. None of it makes any sense to him and it just makes Castiel more angry. Something heavy settles in his chest every time he checks the surface. He hasn’t seen Dean on the deck since he dove off the boat.

When Castiel hunts his lunch and supper, he is too vicious in how he catches the fish and eats them. He tears into them and almost wishes that his meal will attract a shark or two. Castiel wants to fight, he wants to get rid of all this _rage_.

He wants to be with Dean. He’s willing to give up _everything_ to stay with him but Dean still keeps things from him. Castiel has nothing to hide from Dean and he wishes he would be just as open with him. It hurts that with everything Castiel is choosing to leave behind so he can keep all _this_ that Dean isn’t doing much else. He knows that Dean had originally wanted to be the one to stay with him instead, but that doesn’t mean that Dean should be excused from keeping more secrets from him.

Especially when the secrets are big enough to bring Dean to fight with everyone that he knows.

Castiel actually ends up swimming past the boat for quite a distance before he realizes that it stopped. He doubles back slowly, approaching from directly below and he hesitates. It’s usually Dean who has Benny stop the boat so Castiel can get on. But he’s still so angry, so hurt right now that he’s not sure if he wants to.

And he’s not pleased with how he and Dean had been happy for only one day before something else came along and ruined it. It’s not fair. Why did this have to happen now?  Why did it have to happen at all? Why aren’t they allowed to just be _happy_ for once?

He circles under the boat, swimming in lazy loops until he can bring himself to see who might be on the deck. The anchor drops and he dodges out of the way, following it down until he hears another splash. Castiel glances up and all his fans and fins flare in surprise. He recognizes the  legs and back before he does the swim shorts and blue sleeve.

Dean is treading water, his head above the waves. Castiel spirals up around the anchor and watches as Dean dives. He doesn’t go down very far until he stops and starts looking around, turning slowly. As soon as he sees Castiel , tail curled around the anchor’s chain to hold him in place, Dean goes back to the surface to breathe.

Castiel crosses his arms over his chest and watches. Every time Dean dives, he faces him and just floats. He doesn’t seem to notice that Castiel is glaring at him, and that might be because Dean doesn’t see as clearly in the water as he does. Either way, Dean doesn’t do anything else and Castiel finds himself making the clicking-pops of his echoes to make sure that nothing is nearby, that nothing might try to sneak up on Dean and hurt him.

He doesn’t count how many times Dean goes up to breathe and comes back down, but it’s quite a while later  - late enough for the sea to be growing dark as bright-pearl leaves steady-blue – that Castiel finally reaches for his mind. Dean is up breathing at that time and Castiel sees how his body stiffens when the kin-connection slides into place.

_(You’re going to get cold.)_

_(I’m already cold. Would you just get your ass over here already?)_

_(No.)_ Castiel  bares his fangs and looks away, pushing all his anger and hurt into their link. _(I don’t want to go back on the boat. Not if I’m going to continue to be left out of everything. I could understand when my knowing put the entire escape plan at risk. I could under the surprise that you were making. I could understand when it was a secret between brothers, but when you’re not keeping that secret from others and it’s only me, I don’t understand_ that _at all.)_

He turns his back to Dean, curling his fingers in the chain. _(I’m going to sleep in the deeps tonight, and for as many nights as it takes you to realize that.)_

The walls around Dean’s mind tremble and Castiel doesn’t know why. Is he surprised? Upset? Is he still mad with Castiel for everything that had happened this morning? Why is he even swimming in the first place? Dean had told him that he wouldn’t be able to swim with him without the diving gear. Castiel makes sure that he hides all the happiness he feels over having Dean in the water with him. 

Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn’t say anything until warm arms wrap around Castiel’s shoulders and his back-fans are forced flat in a hug. Dean’s cheek is pressed to the back of his neck and Castiel can feel the air escaping in bubbles from his mouth and nose.

 _(I fucking hate that I pissed you off while I was trying to keep all this shit with Sammy and the other from upsetting you. So, I guess… I’m sorry, Cas.)_ Dean presses a kiss to his shoulder and Castiel’s fans flicker, trying to push him away. He’s still angry and he’s not going to let Dean’s touches and his apologies distract him from that.

_(You have to breathe. Go.)_

There’s a frustrated grumble through the kin-connection and he can feel the waters shift as Dean swims away. He looks over his shoulder to watch him kick to the surface at the side of the boat. It’s not without a small amount of discontent that Castiel follows. If Dean insists on being close while they talk, it will be easier for him at the surface.

Castiel grabs Dean’s wrist and his back-fans break the waves as he drags him toward the back of the boat. He circles around his side and shoves Dean toward the swim-deck. _(You’re shivering. Get out and get warm.)_

Dean pushes his hands away and turns around. He’s bobbing in the swells and Castiel can feel the determination taking root in the kin-connection. _(Nope. I’m not getting out until you’ve forgiven me.)_

 _(If you’re looking for my forgiveness, using your well being against me is not the wisest of choices, Dean.)_ He hisses, side-fans flaring threateningly. _(I’m not forgiving anything until I know what you’re hiding from me. And I’m not referring to that surprise you were preparing.)_

 _(Cas – it’s –)_ Dean growls and slaps the water. Castiel’s annoyance doubles when he gets splashed. He moves away, trying to pretend he doesn’t notice how Dean reaches for him. _(Fine. Cas, fucking_ fine _.)_

Dean turns around and climbs up onto the swim-deck. Castiel fights the urge to help him, instead staying back where he is. It wasn’t anger that had pulsed around Dean’s admission. It was _resignation_. From what he can tell, it seems like Dean is going to tell him and that’s the only thing keeping him from diving to the deeps now and cutting the kin-connection. He watches as Dean dries off with a towel and wraps it around his waist.

_(Well, are you coming or not?)_

_(I told you, not until I know what’s wrong.)_

Castiel can hear Dean’s muttered cursing from here. _(Fine. Just, wait a sec.)_

He stomps away to the inside of the boat and Castiel ducks under the waves long enough to chirp his echoes to check for threats.  Satisfied, he leans back and uses the rolling of his adipose fins and the back-forth sweep of his hands to keep him in place.

Dean returns within minutes, fully dressed and wrapped in a blanket. He sits at the railing with his legs tucked in the blanket and his arms crossed over the middle bar of the railing. Castiel doesn’t move from where he’s floating and Dean rests his forehead against the top bar.

 _(This whole…_ fight _with Sam is about us – you and me. Everyone is happy that we’re happy. They think we deserve to be happy, but Sam is – he’s being Sam.)_ Dean’s shoulders hunch under the blanket and he’s silent for several moments. Castiel doesn’t say anything, only pressing encouragement into the kin-connection.

 _(Meg gave her two cents this morning when Sam and I woke her up with our little bitch fit.)_ Dean bunches the blanket up around his ears and Castiel can feel the pure anger swirling around every word. _(She said that she doesn’t believe that you and me are actually feeling what we’re feeling. She said that the only things we’ve got going on is some sort of crazy co-dependence because you’ve made yourself believe that I’m the only thing that you could give you comfort back on Lilith’s ship and that’s just carrying over here. And she says that I’m just a needy affection whore.)_

Castiel hisses and his tail whips sharply through the water, breaking the surface and upsetting his floating. He sinks sharply and rolls backward before he comes up again. Dean is radiating the same anger. As the walls around his mind drop more, Castiel catches the first little poisonous curls of _doubt_ and they terrify him.

 _(Sam knows me better than that. He knows that I’m not… that what_ this _is –)_ The warmth surges forward with his words and Castiel soaks it in. _(- He knows that I don’t take it lightly. But he – he doesn’t think it’s a good idea that you come back with us.)_

Surprise nearly makes him lose his float again. Castiel is too stunned to even know how he’s feeling. How could Sam say that if he knows how much Dean means to him? If he knows how much they need each other? Something tight curls in his chest and migrates into his throat. Castiel swallows around it and it hurts.

 _(Why would he say that?)_   He asks it quietly, scared of the answer.

_(Because I don’t have a home, Cas. I have the impala and sometimes I crash on Bobby’s couch. Mostly I sleep in motels or in whoever’s bed I happen to be sharing the night with.)_

Castiel growls low in his throat, sinking until only his eyes are above the water. He doesn’t like Dean talking about that. _(So we will stay at Bobby’s?)_

 _(Bobby doesn’t have a pool and his bathtub is tiny at best. There won’t be any place for you to swim, Cas. We’ve got lakes, yeah, but they’re all freshwater and we don’t know if you can breathe in that.)_ Dean tilts his head and hides his face in his arms. _(Taking a shower is a huge difference from going under and Sam’s worried that you’ll never get to swim again. That you’ll end up like Free Willy with the floppy dorsal fin or whatever, but it’s –)_

He hesitates and Castiel hates the doubt that shivers along the walls before it gets hidden. Dean looks out at the ocean and runs a hand over his face. _(I don’t have much saved up and I doubt we’re going to get the rest of the money Lilith was going to pay us. Even if I could afford a permanent place to stay, it wouldn’t be more than an apartment. You’d never be able to go outside without risking someone seeing you. And I – they’re right, Cas. I didn’t_ think _about what we’re going to do when we get home. I can’t put you at risk like that.)_

Castiel wants to drown the kin-connection in nothingness. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want Dean to say anything the shakes apart his convictions. This is the decision he made and he’s not going to let something like this throw doubt on everything he’s _certain_ about. He loves Dean, he wants to be with Dean, and that means leaving his family. That means sacrificing everything to keep him.

He swims forward and Dean meets him on the swim-deck, blanket left over the railings. Dean pulls him up and sits back against the railings with his legs crossed under him, Castiel sitting in the cradle of them. Castiel wraps his tail around his waist and leans into Dean, arms around his shoulders and face pressed to his neck. Dean holds him just as tightly and the warmth fills all the spaces in between.

 _(If you think any of that is going to make me change my mind, Dean, you are very much_ wrong _.)_ Castiel clutches at Dean’s shirt and mouths at his throat. _(I made my decision. I want to stay with you and I am confident that we’ll be able to handle any obstacles we meet. You’re clever, Dean and we have the entire trip back to figure out what we’re going to do.)_

Dean buries his face in Castiel’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything and it’s worrying. It makes Castiel’s stomach clench and he doesn’t understand the ache curling around his heart. Castiel sits back and cups Dean’s face, forces him to look up at him.

 _(I’ve made my decision, Dean. I’ve picked you – no matter what. I know that you want_ me _, but the only way I can go with you is if you want me to.)_

 _(I do, Cas. Jesus, you_ know _that I do. But it’s – what if it’s not the right thing for you? What if you hate it? What if you end up hating_ me _for taking you away from where you_ belong _?)_ Dean’s fingers dig into his sides, squeezing tightly. _(I won’t be able to take it, Cas. I can’t have you there and then lose you.)_

Castiel leans in and kisses Dean softly. _(As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.)_

He huffs a small laugh against Castiel’s mouth. _(Do you even know how frikken cliché that sounds?)_

_(I can’t say that I do.)_

Dean smiles again. It’s just something small and warm, but Castiel takes it for all that it is. They move to the other side of the railings and Dean pulls the blanket around them. Castiel wishes he could do something about the walls still wrapped around parts of Dean’s mind and the emotions that are hiding behind them. But the rest of Dean’s mind is clear and burning brightly with the warmth.

They sit on the deck and share gentle kisses and soft touches. Castiel tries to offer apologies for the things he said this morning, but Dean won’t hear it. He says there’s nothing to forgive and Castiel can only curl tighter around him in response.

_(Did you eat enough while you were swimming? Ellen still has fish for you if you want a late night snack.)_

_(Thank you, but I ate plenty.)_ Castiel nudges his nose under Dean’s jaw. _(Did you eat? Did you spend the day with Benny or Jo?)_

Dean shifts under him and pulls the blanket around them tightly. _(Not really and no. I was going to spend it with Benny, since he’s got a helluva stash and I was pissed enough to want to drink myself stupid. But Jess pulled her scary face and told Benny if he shares any of it with me he’s going to really regret it. Seriously, no one wants to mess with Jess when she pulls that face.)_

_(Is it so bad that you drink?)_

_(Sorta.)_ Dean looks away and out at the ocean. _(When we had our last fight, I spent the entire time drunk and it’s coz’ Benny let me at his stash. I used to drink a lot before prison and I was better afterward, since – y’know – I didn’t have anything for four years. Jess and Sam just don’t want me to fall off the deep end again. It’s fine.)_

_(I’m not sure I understand.)_

Dean is silent for a few moments. _(Do you have a drink or a food or something down there that affects your brain and your inhibitions and shit?)_

He thinks about it, going over everything that the colony consumes. _(We constantly have water in our throat and lungs, so there’s not really anything that we drink. I haven’t had any myself, but I know that there are certain kinds of fish and plants that affect us. Balthazar has a fondness for this one kind of jellyfish that he gets particularly sarcastic and sassy after he eats it. And Gabriel is addicted to sweet snails.)_

 _(Snails?)_ Dean crinkles his nose and sticks out his tongue. _(That’s disgusting.)_

 _(He eats at least a dozen a day and Anna tells him he’ll get fat, but he doesn’t stop.)_ Castiel smiles. A different kind of warmth, fond and familiar, fills him when he thinks about his family and he doesn’t bother hiding it from the kin-connection. _(We thought he would have eaten through the population that lives on the colony walls by now, but he always has new ones. I’ve long suspected that he’s actually cultivating them somewhere.)_

Dean’s laugh sounds forced and he smoothes a hand over Castiel’s hip in an absent kind of stroke. The walls around his mind get even tighter. _(I don’t do so great with the in-laws. Do you think they’re going to want to meet me?)_

Castiel tilts his head against Dean’s shoulder. _(You mean, are they going to want to meet the one who’s taking me away from them again? Yes. I think they might. Lucifer might even try and fight you. But don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you.)_

_(Yeah, I don’t doubt that. I remember what you were like the last time someone really hurt me.)_

He pulses curiosity into the kin-connection and waits for the memories Dean provides of the day his arm was broken. Castiel doesn’t think he looks anymore terrifying that he usually does during a battle, but Dean insists that he looks ‘badass’. Dean presses quick kisses to his side-fan, grinning against the spines and webbing.

 _(Pretty sure if my arm hadn’t been broken then I would have had one hell of an inappropriate boner. Bet Alistair would have loved that.)_ Dean snorts and starts to laugh at the things he imagines into the kin-connection. _(Oh shit, I can just picture Gordon’s face. He was so pissed when we were just kissing – can you imagine how he’d react if he found out what we do now?)_

Castiel sits back, eyebrows raised and amusement dragging through the kin-connection. _(I can’t say that I’d want to think about it.)_

 _(Or really?)_ Dean tugs him back in for a teasing kiss. _(What exactly don’t you want to think about?)_

He readjusts how he’s sitting, unfolding from around Dean to sit on the curl of his tail between his legs . Castiel is sitting higher than Dean now and he leans into him with slow and sliding kisses. _(I don’t like thinking about when you were hurt, when I wasn’t able to protect you. And I certainly don’t like thinking about the assbutts that did it all.)_

Dean pulls away laughing. “Assbutts? Oh Jesus, who taught you that?”

_(Is it not an adequate insult?)_

He keeps laughing, doubling over until his forehead is touching Castiel’s clavicle and none of his thoughts make much, if any, sense. Dean is far too amused for Castiel’s liking. He waits through another few moments of laughter before he fists his hands in the front of Dean’s shirt. The laughing cuts off with a startled ‘ _umph’_ as Castiel pulls him from the wall sharply and pushes him to the floor.

Castiel leans over him and spreads his fans. Bright-pearl is beyond the horizon now and steady-blue is speckled with the star lights. He brightens his natural glow as he curls his tail around Dean’s leg and presses heavily against him. Dean has another few chuckles, but they stutter out and die in his throat quickly when Castiel flares his fans and bares his teeth.

 _(No, Dean. Please, keep laughing at me.)_ He dips his head and nips at Dean’s bottom lip. _(Do go on.)_

Dean inhales sharply and Castiel licks at his mouth. There’s no more laughter. Just little shaking breaths and kisses interspaced with the drag of teeth. The touch of hands, fingers pulling across clothing and ocean-cooled skin or scales. The roll of bodies under the blanket and the press of knees on either side of his hips. 

Castiel tugs the blanket higher up his shoulders, trying to hide as much of Dean as he possibly can from anyone who might see him. To hide him from anyone who might see the flush across Dean’s nose or his hooded eyes. Or how he leans up to fix his mouth to Castiel’s gills and drag his nails along the edges of the webbing of his back-fans. Castiel has to try his hardest not to make any noises then.

He keeps his side-fans flared, angling them at every sound he hears that isn’t made by them. There are foot-steps on the deck above, but they don’t come down the stairs and he doesn’t hear the door move. There are no lights on the back of the boat – the only source is Castiel, the stars, and what little spills over from the upper deck.

Their movements are slow,  neither of them actively seeking physical release but rather simply enjoying the press of their bodies together. He can feel Dean’s erection pressing against his sheath and he is hard within his sheath, only holding it back so he doesn’t end up rubbing against the rough fabric of Dean’s clothing. Castiel’s hands stay fisted in Dean’s hair while he is propped up on his elbows. Dean’s hands are the ones that travel from Castiel’s hair and along his jaw, over his shoulders and back, to grip the swell of his tail and rub his thumbs along the seam of skin and scales.

When he does hear the door, they both stop. Castiel drops to tuck his head under Dean’s chin and they pretend that nothing more innocent than cuddling is happening.  Dean’s feet are hanging between the railing and he has to tilt his head all the way back to see who is standing in the doorway.

“Oh, you two made up again? How nice.” Meg tilts her head and she leans against the door frame. She has a big cup in her hands and she blows on it before taking a sip. “Jess got a hold of hot chocolate and she’s forcing a cup on everyone. If you’re done making out or whatever the hell you were doing, you can come have yours now.”

Castiel rests his chin on Dean’s chest. _(What’s hot chocolate?)_

 _(A hot, sweet drink.)_ Dean’s thumbs continue to rub. “Cas doesn’t like hot things, so he’s not going to be having any.”

“Surprise, surprise.” Meg rolls her eyes. “ She didn’t make one for him and got him a glass of water instead. We’re all going to bed after this and if you come in afterward we’re all going to be pissed.”

Castiel remembers what Dean said Meg had told him earlier and he flares his fans under the blanket, hissing and glaring at her. Meg raises her eyebrows before she shrugs and turns back into the boat, the door slamming shut behind her. He tilts his face into Dean’s neck and chews angrily at the collar of his shirt. Remembering what Dean told him is making Castiel agitated again, his adipose fins rippling wildly along his tail.

Dean laughs and runs a hand through Castiel’s hair. _(It’s okay, Cas.)_

 _(I don’t like what she said.)_ Castiel can feel the shirt start to fray under his teeth and he stops, turning away to press his cheek to the damp fabric.

 _(I know. But she’s wrong, so it doesn’t matter.)_ Dean presses a kiss to his forehead, but Castiel doesn’t take much comfort in the words. The walls around Dean’s mind are stronger, broader, than before. They hide so much that Castiel can’t tell if he’s lying or not.

He twitches his hips up and Castiel’s back- fans flare at the suggestive press of his erection against his sheath. _(Now if they’re gonna be going to bed soon, we need to get done before we go in. They’ll flip their shit if I walk in sporting a boner.)_


	36. Illusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First there’s the sudden shock that swamps the kin-connection. Next, Castiel hears Dean before he sees him. He doesn’t hear the words themselves, but he would recognize the sound of his voice anywhere. Sam’s waves of warning hits him as he looks up the hallway toward the bathrooms.
> 
> He wishes he hadn’t looked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **We're reaching the final stretch guys. This is the beginning of the end. As much as parts of this chapter will make you want to rage quit, all I can say is _keep going_. It will get explained. It will get fixed. And _you will get a happy ending_.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (usual notes currently at the bottom of the page so as not to interfere with this message getting across).

Castiel wakes to silence in both the room and the kin-connection. The blankets are tucked carefully around him and he has a vague memory of mumbled voices and a kiss to his forehead. He doesn’t know when that was and how much time has passed since then. After swimming all day yesterday and being so _angry_ for all of it, he had slept soundly and for longer than he usually does.

A little pulse of worry curls in his stomach when he reaches out with his mind, searching to confirm if the kin-connection is truly closed or if Dean is merely blocking him out. Nothingness meets his senses and the anxiety increases until it’s pushing into his chest and curling around his lungs. With everything that had happened between them over the last several days, having the kin-connection closed like this is uncomfortable and nerve wracking.

The curtain is closed and Castiel stretches before he pulls it open. The only person he can see in the room is Sam. He’s lying face down on his bed, both hands folded over the back of his head with his fingers tangled in his hair. One of his legs is hanging off the edge of the bed and the other is bent, toes against the wall. Sam flinches in surprise when Castiel touches his mind and he turns on his side to peer at him across the distance between them.

_(Good morning, Sam.)_

Sam winces and several walls rise between them, thinning the kin-connection drastically. _(Sorry – I’ve just got a really bad headache right now.)_

Castiel immediately draws back, barely linking to Sam’s mind at all. _(Are you alright?)_

 _(I will be when Jess or Dean come back with painkillers.)_ Sam turns his face back into his pillow. _(Dean needs them too. He said he can feel a migraine coming on and he figured you were gonna wake soon so he’s gone for breakfast too.)_

He pushes the blankets away and uses his tail to pull himself to the edge of the bed. _(Is that why the kin-connection is closed with him?)_

_(Yeah, he said something like that, I think. I can see why – having it full on hurts like a bitch.)_

_(I’m sorry.)_ Castiel tries not to feel relief over knowing that the kin-connection is only closed because Dean is in pain, but the curling worry inside him does start to seep away. It leaves him feeling lighter for a few moments before the concern sets in.

Sam waves his hand slightly. _(Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t hurt that much when it’s like this.)_

 _(Why do you both have headaches? Is it common for you to have them at the same time?)_ Castiel tilts his head, watching how Sam starts rubbing at his temples.

He makes a huffy noise that sounds like it could be a laugh, but Castiel isn’t sure if it is. _(Dean gets them every once in a while. With how rough it’s been for him the past few week, I’m actually surprised he didn’t get one sooner. And I’m just hung over. Jess spiked everyone’s hot chocolate except Dean’s last night and we were drinking with dinner too.)_

 _(If you don’t want Dean to drink, why do you drink?)_ Castiel doesn’t think that seems very fair, even with Dean’s past being taken into consideration.

 _(There’s a huge difference between how Jess and I drink and how Dean used to. When he got out of jail, we had a huge talk with him about it and he knows we’re just looking out for him. He even appreciates that someone is finally looking out for him. But he still gives us shit for it every time he tries to drink himself stupid.)_ Sam starts to sit up and seems to think better of it, sinking back down into his pillows almost immediately. _(Benny didn’t know about it before and Dean was avoiding us while you guys were fighting when we went to shore. He said that if he’d known he’d never have let Dean at his stash.)_

Castiel glances toward the half-open door, side-fans spreading and twitching to catch the sound of footsteps in the hall. _(Does that mean that Benny drinks?)_

 _(Yeah, but not like how we don’t want Dean to drink. It can get complicated if you try to think about it too much.)_ Sam shrugs and waves his hand again.

 _(When you’re feeling better, can you explain it all to me? I think this is information I should know for when Dean and I are living together.)_ Even though he’s watching the door, Castiel doesn’t miss how Sam’s whole body stiffens. Something sour twists in his chest. _(You still think it’s a bad idea for me to return with him.)_ It’s not a question.

The footsteps stop outside their room and Jess comes in with Dean on her heels. If Sam was going to give an answer, he doesn’t now.

“Good news, we found some Tylenol-threes!” Jess shakes the little white container in her hand, making the contents rattle. Sam hisses and pulls a pillow over his face and she smiles brightly at Castiel. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

Dean pulls a face behind her. “Jesus, Jess, I only took ‘em a few minutes ago, they haven’t kicked in yet so could you not do that? It’s not a frikken maraca.”

Her apologetic look is completely destroyed by the wink she does toward Castiel. Jess takes one of the glasses of water from the tray that Dean is carrying and she takes it to Sam. Dean’s smile when he sees Castiel is small and strained. As soon as Castiel has the tray in his hands, Dean turns around to shut the door and he hits the little switch that turns off the lights. Jess complains about the darkness but it’s only a few moments before Castiel’s glow is bright enough for them to see by.

 _(Why did Dean turn out the lights?)_ Castiel asks Sam as he starts eating, biting into the first strip of fish that line the plate on his tray.

_(A lot of headaches are light sensitive. Especially Dean’s migraines.)_

Dean’s lips brush his temple when Castiel starts to dim his glow. “Sam, you translating for him?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Cas, you keep on being your light-bulby self. It’s not even near as bad as the fluorescents. It’s fine.” He kisses his temple again but Castiel keeps his light at this softer level. It’s still enough for him to see what he’s doing, and he can still clearly see Sam and Jess where they are on their bed. “I’m just going to lay away from the light and the world for a while, okay?”

“Okay, Dean.” Castiel says it softly, not wanting to be too loud.

Dean crawls onto the bed behind him and Castiel watches him over his shoulder as he settles on his side, facing the wall. He’s lying in the spot that Castiel usually sleeps in and his shoulders are hunched forward. Castiel gestures for Jess to take his tray for a moment and he turns around, curling his tail up to keep himself balanced on the edge of the bed as he pulls one of the blankets over Dean.

“Thanks, Cas.” He mumbles and his hand finds Castiel’s on his shoulder, squeezing his fingers gently before it drops to the bed.

Castiel leans over to press a kiss into Dean’s hair. _(Is there anything that I can do to help him?)_

 _(Just let him be. The T3’s are going to knock him out soon enough and hopefully he’ll sleep through the worst of it. Keep your fingers crossed that it works the same for me.)_ Sam explains as he finishes the glass of water Jess gave him.

He lets the kin-connection with Sam drop to give his mind the rest it needs and instead opens a new link with Jess. She smiles at him in the shadows cast by his glow as she gives him back the tray. Castiel asks her about what T3’s are and he finishes his meal while she explains about painkillers and the different kinds and strengths.

Their conversation moves on to the different types of medications that humans have and all the things that they take them for. Castiel tells her in detail about what fin-kin use. He goes over the thick salves that the healers in the colony make, and the needles they use – taken from certain breeds of fish – that carry toxins to numb limbs or provide temporary paralysis.

Jess is fascinated to hear about it and Castiel recounts the story of how Lucifer nearly had his tongue split in half by a particularly vicious crab during one of Gabriel’s dares while they were children. Sam starts snoring softly around the time Castiel is explaining how Lucifer hadn’t been able to eat properly for more than an entire rotation. The healers had to apply a very bitter jelly to his tongue and wrap it in kelp. They kept on having to check on him every few hours to make sure the kelp hadn’t come undone and he hadn’t eaten it by accident. Lucifer still has the scars on the top and underside of his tongue.

When he’s done eating and he’s finished the whole glass of water that had been on the tray for him, Jess offers to take it back to the kitchen. She’s halfway out the door when she turns around again. _(Oh, we forgot to mention earlier when we came back. Benny estimates that we’re only a couple days away from the islands. But there’s a storm warning coming in from the west and it’s going to slow us down a lot. Depending on how bad it is and how long it lasts, we might have to make port to wait it out.)_

Castiel worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, glancing at Dean. _(That means I’m going to have to choose if I go with you or wait out here until you return.)_

 _(I’m sorry, but it does. The storm isn’t due to hit until tomorrow, so you have all day to think about it.)_ She smiles softly in the light from the door. _(Nobody is going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with and if you want to stay on the boat, we can protect you.)_

_(You sound just like Dean.)_

_(I think I might take offense to that.)_ She muffles a laugh behind one hand. _(I’ll be back in a few minutes.)_

The door clicks shut behind her and Castiel dims his glow even more. He turns around to face Dean fully and he’s very tempted to touch his mind to see if he’s sleeping. Dean’s breathing is uneven and Castiel slides closer, leaning over him to see his face. His forehead is creased and a sharp frown pulls at his lips. Something aches behind Castiel’s ribs and he wishes there was something he could do to help soothe Dean of this pain.

He moves a pillow and presses himself into the space at the head of the bed. Gently, using his tail and his hands, he coaxes Dean to roll onto his back with his head now resting on Castiel’s tail. Remembering what Sam did earlier, Castiel softly touches Dean’s temples and presses in with small circular motions. Within minutes Dean’s forehead smoothes out and though his eyebrows twitch every so often, he seems to relax into a deeper sleep.

Castiel hums ‘Ramble On’ quietly. He’s only part way through the song when Jess returns. She has Meg’s laptop and she isn’t very gentle with how she pushes Sam away from the edge of the bed so she can sit too. The light from the laptop is bright, but both Sam and Dean are sleeping now and neither of them react to it.

He passes the time thinking about what he’s going to say to his family in a few days and making a mental list of all the things he’s going to bring with him. Castiel has never really been materialistic. The only items that he really has are his weapons, but he would like to take reminders of his family if he can. If they’ll let him.

Dean wakes up shortly after Jess leaves to get their lunches. He grumbles and groans and curls on his side, pulling the blanket up to his ears. His cheek rubs against Castiel’s tail a few times before he stills and raises himself up on one arm. Dean blinks down at Castiel’s tail, dimly marked with the dots of his glow patterns.

“Head hurt, Dean?” Castiel asks softly, reaching out to push his fingers through his hair.

Dean looks up at him and Castiel brightens his glow just enough to see the flash of confusion on his face. It clears up quickly and Dean’s smile is still small; still not the same as how Castiel is used to seeing it. He nods and leans into the touch of Castiel’s hand. Castiel lets him pull his tail straight and arrange the pillows and blankets until he’s supported enough to lay along it, using Castiel’s lap as his pillow. Dean has his arms wrapped tightly around Castiel’s tail. He doesn’t object when Castiel starts running his fingers through his hair, massaging his temples and his scalp over and over again.

“Jess food.” Castiel says softly and Dean nods against his tail, humming acknowledgement.

They sit in silence until Jess comes back, balancing four trays expertly in her hands. Castiel isn’t sure how she managed to get the door open. He brightens his glow enough for her to see by and Dean groans, rubbing his face against Castiel’s scales and muttering about light and noise.

“Didn’t the T3s work, Dean?” Jess asks quietly, handing Castiel the tray with his fish on it.

“Not well enough.”

She places the other trays on the floor and sits on the edge of her bed. Sam makes groaning noises when she shakes his shoulder and he tries to roll away from her hand. Dean mumbles words too muffled for Castiel to hear or understand, but he can feel them vibrate against his scales before Dean pulls away. He sits up and rubs at his face, continuing to mutter under his breath. Jess gives him his tray and Castiel curls his tail around Dean’s hips while they eat.

Dean spends most of his time poking at his food. He puts the tray on the floor having barely eaten any of it. Castiel is already finished and he leans over to do the same. He slides down to lay properly on the bed, back in his spot by the wall, and Dean curls against him with his face pressed to Castiel’s gills. The blanket gets pulled up around his ears again and he throws a leg over his tail and Castiel presses gentle kisses to his forehead while he runs a hand through Dean’s hair.

More words get mumbled against his neck and Castiel thinks he might hear several apologies, but he’s not sure what for. Dean isn’t speaking loud enough for Jess to hear and translate for him. It makes something in his chest ache and he wants, desperately, to reach out and sink into Dean’s mind. He knows that Dean’s head hurts too much for him to do that, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

Having the kin-connection with Jess just isn’t the same. They’re not sharing thoughts and emotions right now, or barely at all. It’s just her presence sitting on the very edge of his mind and it doesn’t fill him like it does when he’s linked with Dean. She doesn’t flood Castiel with warmth and want and all the little things that Dean always does.

Jess is talking quietly to Sam and forcing him to drink more water. Castiel watches them over the top of Dean’s head and he pulses curiosity at them. While Dean’s breathing evens out, Jess explains hangovers and how to deal with them. He stores the information away just in case he’ll need to help Dean through a hangover in the future. That’s a thought that he doesn’t hide from the kin-connection and something flickers through the kin-connection before Jess hides it behind walls.

It’s there and gone before Castiel can grab it and examine the feeling for what it is. It leaves him confused and curious. What would Jess have to hide from him about this? Did Dean tell them before Castiel woke up that he is going to stick to his decision; that he’s going to stay with Dean no matter what?  Castiel already suspects that Sam isn’t happy with it and it hurts to wonder why. He thought that he and Sam were friends – or at the very least that Sam liked him somewhat. He likes Sam just fine and would happily think of him as a member of his family. And Castiel can’t recall a time that Sam ever expressed that he didn’t like the relationship that he has with Dean.

Sam doesn’t go back to sleep and he and Jess talk quietly in hushed whispers that Jess doesn’t translate for him. It makes Castiel feel left out and uneasy. He lets that flow through the kin-connection against the small walls that Jess has hiding pieces of her thoughts. Hidden behind Dean as he is, Castiel’s glow doesn’t reach across the beds anymore. It’s only by the light from the laptop that Castiel can see the way Jess bites her bottom lip and glances back at him.

He can’t take the secretive looks anymore.

_(Why don’t you want me to be with Dean?)_

Jess flinches and he can feel her recoil from the question in the kin-connection. He knows she’s repeated the question to Sam when Sam sits up and swings his legs off the bed, ducking his head so he doesn’t hit. Sam sighs heavily and taps at his temple. Castiel makes the link without hesitation, keeping his touch as gentle as possible until he’s certain it doesn’t cause Sam the same pain as before.

 _(It’s not that we don’t want you to be with Dean – because we do.)_ Sam’s face is hidden in shadow, the laptop behind him now, but Castiel can still feel him watching him. _(I haven’t seen Dean this happy in a long time and I want him to stay happy. If you and this whirlwind romance, no matter how it started, makes him happy then I’m all for it.)_

Castiel tightens his tail where it’s curled around Dean’s leg. _(But…?)_

 _(But neither of you are thinking about what it’s going to be like when we get home. Dean doesn’t have a permanent place. He has his car and a couch at Bobby’s or with me and Jess.)_ Sam runs his hands through his hair and Castiel shares his frustration over this topic. _(Bobby lives in a place that’s days away from the ocean. Jess and I live in a place that’s pretty close to the sea, but there are people_ everywhere _. You won’t be able to go outside without risking someone seeing.)_

Jess puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Castiel has been feeding what Sam is saying into his link with Jess so she knows what he is saying too and she speaks now. _(Moving across the world is a huge decision and we don’t want either of you to end up regretting it and hurting each other. If it seems that we’re being harsh now, it’s because we’re trying to get you to see that. We don’t want you to think you’ve made a mistake and change your mind in a few months. It’ll be very hard to get you back here once we’re home.)_

She tries to push sympathy into the kin-connection and Castiel firmly ignores it as she continues. _(Dean’s always loved with his everything and if you end up wanting to leave him, if you decide he wasn’t worth leaving your whole family for, it’s going to wreck him.)_

 _(I wouldn’t do that to him.)_ Castiel glances down and takes in how relaxed Dean looks while he sleeps. The idea of hurting Dean like that twists pain around his heart. He gathers all the warmth that fills his chest and he forces it into the kin-connection, flooding both links so they can _feel_ how much Dean means to him. _(I won’t hurt Dean like that.)_

Both Sam and Jess radiate surprise at the waves of warmth and they share a quick look. Sam leans forward first, his elbows on his knees. _(After four weeks of fighting to get you your freedom and get you back to your family, are you really going to be able to give them up just like that?)_

 _(It will hurt and I – they – will be sad. Some will probably be angry.)_ Castiel dips his head and gently nudges his nose through Dean’s hair. _(If I stayed home and told them about my relationship with Dean, I would likely be exiled if not killed. I don’t want to go back and pretend I don’t know Dean. I don’t want to have to act like I never felt like this, that this never happened.)_

Jess makes a small noise in the back of his throat and Sam puts his arm around her shoulders. She turns into him and Castiel can feel her own brand of warmth for Sam – strong and bright – pulse through her. It makes him smile against Dean’s forehead.

 _(I know what you mean, Castiel.)_ The thought is soft and he doesn’t share it with Sam, unsure if she wants him to.

Sam is brimming with the same warmth for Jess and he sighs, tipping his head to rest his temple against the top of her head. _(I really wish this was easier. It’s just – Cas, you’re going to be locked up in wherever Dean ends up staying. You might never get to swim in the sea again and we don’t know if you can even breathe in fresh water lakes. There are a lot places you could swim in private, but they’re not easily available. Dean’s going to have a job and he’ll have to work to support the both of you. That’s going to be hard on him and it’ll take a lot of his time. All you’ll have is Dean and us whenever we visit. You’re used to being surrounded by so many minds – are you really going to be able to be okay with no one else in the kin-connection but Dean?)_

His stomach twists and turns, knotting with anxiety. The fish he ate for lunch is making him feel sick.

_(I want to stay with Dean.)_

_(I know you do. And I know Dean wants to stay with you. I don’t want to play the bad guy here, Cas. But I need you to stop and think about this from all angles. Take your feelings out of the equation and think about whether this is really a good idea. Do you really believe that you’re going to be okay? That you’re not going to regret leaving everyone you’ve known your whole life to be with someone you’ve only know a month?)_ Pain curls around Sam’s words, like he’s forcing them out when he doesn’t want to and Castiel can understand why.

Jess makes a sniffling noise against Sam’s shoulder. _(We just want what’s best for both of you. It’s hard to see how that’s going to be possible for you when you’re going to be locked up at Dean’s place like you would have been at Lilith’s, but in much smaller conditions. It’ll be nicer because Dean will be there, but how long before it starts feeling like a cage instead of a home?)_

Castiel’s fans flex and he tucks tighter against Dean, drawing him closer with his tail and arms. Dean shifts in his sleep but he doesn’t wake up.

_(I don’t want to talk about this anymore.)_

_(Please, Castiel.)_ Sam tugs at the walls he starts raising in the kin-connection. _(Please think about it. You only have a few days to make your decision and we’ll support you in whatever you choose and help the both of you as best as we can – but we want you to be_ certain _. You need to know exactly what it’s going to be like where we live before you decide. Before you make a decision that will either hurt Dean a little bit now, or holds the potential to_ break _him later. I’m sorry.)_

He shakes his head and severs the kin-connection with the both of them. It’s hard to breathe around the tightness in his throat and the silence in his mind is deafening. It echoes with Sam’s words and he hates it. He wants to use the curtain to block them out and let him pretend, for a little while, that the world consists of just him and Dean. Of the heat of Dean’s skin leaking through his clothes and the rhythmic breathing under the hands Castiel has spread over his back.

Sam and Jess don’t try to talk to him again after that. Castiel spends a long time counting Dean’s breaths and the beat of his heart. He uses them to calm the turmoil boiling in his head. It’s almost enough to make him forget. Almost.

As carefully as he can, Castiel reaches for Dean’s mind, searching for comfort in the familiar feel of Dean’s thoughts and the emotions of his dreams. The sleep fog is loose around the edges, but as soon as Castiel sifts further into it, Dean starts making grumbling noise against his shoulder. He shifts until the touch is withdrawn. If the kin-connection is enough to wake him, Castiel doesn’t want to use it.

Even though he’s not tired and his mind is still buzzing with Sam’s word, Castiel does get lulled into a light doze. At first he jolts awake whenever someone moves or speaks too loudly, but after a while it doesn’t and the next time that he wakes is when he is cold. Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, his head held in his hands and his words are an unintelligible mumble. They’re returned in kind by Sam and he knows they’re talking, but it’s too quiet – too muffled – for him to make out the words.

“Dean?” Castiel asks around a yawn, sitting up to rub at his eyes. “Head hurt?”

He turns to Castiel slowly and there’s sadness in his eyes. Castiel can see it in how his rising glow lights Dean’s face in the dark. As soon as he sees it, Castiel pulls himself next to Dean, teetering dangerously on the edge of the bed. He touches Dean’s shoulder, sliding his touch up to his neck to brush lightly at his face. Dean leans into the touch and he lets out a soft sigh.

Castiel doesn’t like seeing Dean like this.

“I’m okay, Cas.” Dean says softly, his fingers ghosting over his tail to his hip. It’s like Dean wants to touch but he’s holding back.

“Kin-connection?” Castiel hopes Dean says ‘yes’. The comfort the link brings him is sorely needed and soothing Dean would be easier if he could touch his mind directly.

Castiel doesn’t miss how Dean hesitates or how his gaze flickers to Sam and Jess, still sitting on their beds. The pain twisting around his heart tightens, becoming more solid as it pushes up into his throat. It makes him want to scream.

“No.” Dean murmurs, shaking his head once. “Still hurts.”

His smile is too small, too forced and Castiel wants to wrap around him. He wants to envelope Dean in all that he is and take away all the bad things, all the doubts that Meg and the others have planted in both their minds. They’re poisonous and they hurt, digging under Castiel’s skin and racing in his veins faster than the burn that the shocking chip used to give him.

It isn’t comparable to the agony that used to stab through his brain and along his spine. But this kind of pain is more dangerous. He doesn’t know when, or how, or if it will ever stop. And it’s terrifying. Castiel made his decision and he picked Dean. He’s chosen this and he doesn’t want to give it up. Why would he want to let go of this warmth? Why would he want to leave the happiness Dean gives him and never have it again? Why would he want to feel that hollow emptiness and have it sitting in his chest forever?

He doesn’t want any of that. It terrifies him.

But all these uncertainties are tainting it. They’re trying to sear holes in his convictions and Castiel hates it. He hates that they’re taking root in Dean’s mind and he can see it happening and there’s nothing he can do about it. Castiel could try and make the kin-connection and he could fill Dean’s head with all that pulsing warmth that he feels for him, hoping that it would be enough to wipe away every doubt Dean has. But if Dean’s head still hurts, he could be doing more harm than he would good.

Castiel leans into his side and presses a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. He’s sitting facing the wall, his back to the others and his tail curled around Dean’s hips. Dean puts his arm around him, sliding it over his stomach and holding his hip and Castiel copies him, folding his fingers into Dean’s shirt. He can feel the other’s eyes on him, but he’s still upset and he doesn’t want to look at them.

Dean rests his head against Castiel’s shoulder. “Sam, he linked with you?”

“Not since after lunch. He cut us out.”

Castiel rests a hand on the arm Dean has around him, pushing his fingers up under the sleeve to feel the sleep warmed skin under it. He doesn’t pay attention to what they’re saying until Dean asks him to make the kin-connection with Sam. It’s only a little begrudgingly that he does it.

 _(Dean says he’s going to be next to useless today and he’s wondering if you would rather go swim or something so you’re not just sitting in the dark with him.)_ Sam explains it quickly and Castiel doesn’t even look at him as he speaks.

Castiel twitches the end of his tail along Dean’s thigh, thinking about it. He’s already slept so much, both last night and the nap after lunch. The idea of sleeping more, even if it’s with Dean while he’s trying to sleep away his head pain, doesn’t appeal to him. And if Castiel really isn’t going to be able to swim anywhere near as much when they get back to Dean’s home – he really should start thinking of it as his home too – then he should take every chance that he can get now.

“I’m just going to be lying here sleeping - or trying to.” Dean mumbles against his shoulder and Sam translates the words. “I don’t know how you didn’t get super bored this morning, but you don’t have to spend the rest of the afternoon in here. You can go do other stuff or something.”

 _(Are the painkillers that Jess found not working for him?)_ Castiel asks, tilting his cheek against the top of Dean’s head.

_(They’re doing their job, but migraines are persistent. Dean’s usually knock him for a loop for a whole day. He should be fine tomorrow.)_

_(And there’s nothing I can do?)_

_(Not unless you have some magical under the sea medication that would help him.)_

Castiel thinks over all the different medicines that he knows of. There are some that might work, but he doesn’t know all the ingredients or how to combine them to make the paste that would be applied to the roof of the mouth. It’s only the healers and their disciples that know how to make the more complicated and powerful medicines.

 _(If Dean is okay with it, then I wouldn’t mind going for swim.)_ It’ll do him some good to get some exercise. Even though he’s swam so much since they left Lilith’s boat, there had been many days where he didn’t get to stretch his tail like he can out in the real sea. He wants to make up for that now.

Dean nods against his shoulder as Sam relays what Castiel said. “Good. I don’t want you being cooped up just because I have to be. Sam’s gonna take you outside.” He leans away, hand slipping over Castiel’s tail as it falls from his side.

Castiel starts to turn to make it easier for Sam to pick him up, but Dean catches his wrist and tugs him forward. The kiss misses half his mouth, falling to the corner of his lips in a clumsy bump. As soon as he rights himself with his hand on Dean’s chest, Castiel leans in to kiss him properly. Dean slides his fingers into his hair, holding Castiel there for the few moments they get before Sam coughs to remind them that he’s waiting.

He pulls away with a final lick to Dean’s upper lip and is rewarded with another small smile that doesn’t quite reach Dean’s eyes. Castiel chooses not to be worried about that. Dean is in pain and he can’t expect him to look and act like he usually does. Sam gives him his weapons belt first and waits for him to put it on. He lifts Castiel from the bed with ease, carrying him with his tail over one arm. The door is already partially open and Sam pulls it the rest of the way with his foot.

Before they go into the hall, Castiel asks Sam for the specific wording to something he wants to say to Dean. He has Sam turn around so he’s not saying it over his shoulder.

“Feel better soon, Dean.”

His smile falters slightly before it grows. “I will. Thanks, Cas.”

Sam pulls the door shut behind them, hooking it with his foot and hopping awkwardly for a moment. He tilts to one side so far that Castiel thinks they might fall over and pulses warning into the kin-connection. It’s unnecessary and Sam rights himself quickly with an apology. They’re only a few steps from the door when Castiel hears a thump and a loud, muffled curse.

_(What was that?)_

_(Sounded like “fuck!” to me. Dean probably flopped over and hit his head or his shin or something. I wouldn’t worry about it.)_ Sam shrugs. There is no concern or anything similar in the kin-connection from him and Castiel glances over his shoulder once before he pushes it from his mind.

Once they’re on the deck, Castiel is surprised by how dark it is. Steady-blue is hidden by thick grey clouds that seem like they’re hanging close enough that he might be able to touch them if Sam stood on the very top of the boat. He can practically taste the moisture in the air and the world-breath is strong, pushing against them so hard that Sam nearly stumbles to the side. It’s blowing Sam’s hair everywhere and it tugs at Castiel’s fans and his adipose fins. Sam explains that it’s the prelude to the storm Jess mentioned earlier.

 _(It’ll probably start raining soon.)_ Sam crouches to put Castiel down in front of the door in the railing. He opens it as he stands. _(Which means we’re all going to be spending the rest of the day inside. Are you going to keep the kin-connection with me the whole time?)_

 _(If you don’t mind. It’ll be easier to coordinate the time to get back on the boat. And I’ll catch my own supper so there’s no need to stop for me until it’s time to sleep.)_ Castiel slips down onto the swim deck and pulls himself to the frothing waters at its edge. _(Thank you for bringing me out here.)_

 _(No problem.)_ Sam steps back and he runs a hand over the back of his neck. _(It’s the least I can do since Jess and I keep pissing the both of you off. We’re just worried, y’know? We want what’s best for the both of you. Something that’ll make the both of you happy.)_

_(You’re not doing anything different from what any loving family member would do. It’s understandable.)_

Sam’s laugh is short and sharp. _(Understandable but not appreciated, huh?)_

Castiel doesn’t bother answering. He dives from the swim-deck and tumbles in the blast of the helicopter-blades. It’s easier to swim far beneath the boat at the very edge of the kin-connection. The hum of the boat’s engines can barely be heard and Castiel’s natural glow lights the waters around him. Few fish dart in and out of the bubble of light and he doesn’t bother with them. He’s not hungry right now and he won’t be for a few more hours at least.

It’s harder to clear his mind today with the repetitive motion of his tail. Little thoughts keep sneaking in, burrowing into his brain and making it hard not to worry about what’s going to happen in a few days. After a while he starts to sing, raising his voice to the sea around him. He’s only a few days from home and the chances of fin-kin – from his colony or the fang-fin – being around rises with each passing league. Castiel knows they’re going south because that’s what Dean said, but he doesn’t know how that translates to the location of his colony or the areas they go to around it – like the kelp forest or the hunting grounds. For all he knows, they could be going straight over his colony before they reach the light-beds. Or they might be approaching his home from the fang-fin side.

If that’s the case, Castiel probably shouldn’t be broadcasting his location. But the trench would still be leagues deeper than where he is now and there is little chance that his voice would reach far enough down for one of them to hear him. He’s not exactly singing very loudly. It’s more for his own comfort than it is to call out for any of his kin.

Every so often, over the thin stretch of the kin-connection, Castiel gets bursts of Sam’s emotions. For the first while it’s only concern. He can’t tell if it’s for him – alone in the sea – or if it’s for Dean and his headache. Only once is it a sharp pulse of sadness and that was followed quickly with a burn of anger. Since then – and that was, by Castiel’s estimation – well over an hour ago, it’s been nothing but little rushes of frustration through their link.

Castiel doesn’t even need to ask how Dean is doing. Sam provides sporadic updates and they’re all the same. Dean is in bed and behind the curtain.  

That’s all there is until surprise flashes into his mind so brightly it disrupts his swimming. He responds with curiosity and adjusts his path so he’s moving up through the water, closer to the boat to strengthen the kin-connection.

 _(It’s – I’m not sure. It might be something to be worried about.)_ Sam’s thoughts stutter, wrapped in uncertainty and suspicion.

_(What is it?)_

_(Meg. She’s eating supper with us and she mentioned that Crowley’s been asking her a lot of questions about you recently.)_

Now he understands the suspicion. _(Why?)_

_(We don’t know. But today he asked about your colony again. Meg says he’s always been a curious person and usually asks weird questions about things that don’t seem to make sense to other people.)_

_(What did she tell him about the colony?)_

_(That we don’t know anything about where it is, that none of us do. According to her he didn’t really seem to care about the answer.)_

Castiel doesn’t like this. It makes his scales itch. _(I haven’t told Dean yet, but the colony is a few days swim from where you caught me. I only know my way home from there. Is it going to be troublesome for Crowley or Benny to keep the boat at the islands while I’m saying goodbye?)_ He doesn’t bother hiding that most of that is a lie. Sam is smart. He’ll know what Castiel is trying to do.

Understanding flickers through the link and Castiel is almost proud of Sam for figuring it out so easily. _(I just told her what you said and she’s going to tell him and Benny about it tomorrow.)_

_(Good. Crowley’s reaction to that news will give us better insight into what he’s up to, if anything.)_

He dives again after that when Sam’s conversation moves on to other things.

Castiel chases a school of small fish, catching and eating as he follows them. They lead him away from the boat and he only breaks from the chase when the kin-connection is about to collapse under the strain of the distance. It’s not long after he’s back within sight of it that Sam tugs at their link to get his attention.

_(We’re getting ready for bed and Benny’s ready to stop the boat if you want to come on board now.)_

_(Of course.)_ He adjusts his fans and flips up, twisting through the water toward the surface. _(How is Dean feeling now?)_

_(Better. He’s stretching his legs and since Bobby finished fixing up that other bathroom, he’s taking a shower right now.)_

Castiel follows just under the surface. The waves are bigger than he’s ever seen them before and the boat is rocking with them. Sam looks like he’s having trouble standing. He’s holding onto the railing and his feet are spaced far apart, bracing himself against the world-breath and the waves that hit the boat on the right side. There is rain, but it’s light. Sam says it was pouring earlier. When the boat stops, the waves continue to make it move and Castiel thinks it’s going to be difficult for Sam to stay standing to help get him onto the boat, let alone carry him.

The swim-deck is slick and slippery. It takes several attempts for them to get Castiel out of the water, made all the more difficult by how Sam keeps holding onto the railing with one hand or he risks getting thrown from the swim-deck.

 _(You don’t have to carry me, Sam.)_ Castiel uses the railings to pull himself closer to the door once he’s out of the water. _(It’s not safe for you to walk with both our weights. I can get myself to the door.)_

Relief and appreciation fill the kin-connection and Sam closes the door in the railings once Castiel is through. He staggers back and forth across the deck as he makes his way to the door that leads inside. Castiel’s path after him is much straighter but takes longer. He push-pulls himself, scales and hands slipping for purchase on the wet floor.

It feels like it takes far too long for him to get across the deck and into the relative safety of the hall. The boat is still pitching from side to side and Sam is holding onto a railing built into the wall. Castiel never noticed it before, but he can see why it’s helpful. He takes a moment to breathe, leaning back against one wall while Sam steps carefully over his tail to get to their room.

What happens next comes in stages.

First, there’s the sudden shock that swamps the kin-connection. Next, Castiel hears Dean before he sees him. He doesn’t hear the words themselves, but he would recognize the sound of his voice anywhere. Sam’s wave of warning hits him just as he looks up the hallway toward the bathrooms.

He wishes he hadn’t looked.

Castiel feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. There’s a tightness in his chest that squeezes his ribs together. It’s the only explanation for why it feels like they’re digging into his lungs and into his heart. It’s the only explanation why everything suddenly _hurts_. He doesn’t have a reason for why his mind goes blank or why it’s the little details that he notices instead of the whole scene he’s seeing.

It’s the details that hurt the worst. Like how Dean is cupping Jo’s elbow with one hand and holding his towel around his hips with the other. How her hands rest against Dean’s chest. How their hair is wet and dripping, soaking into the shoulders of Jo’s shirt and running down Dean’s temples. How he’s smiling down at her, their faces so close – _too close_. And the marks dotting the inside of Dean’s upper arm, mottled and round and outlined with the indents of teeth.

Castiel knows every mark he’s left on Dean’s body. He’s memorized every single one and where he’s placed them on Dean’s skin.

He never left any on his arms.

Sam is the one who alerts them to their presence and Dean takes a hasty step away from Jo. Both of them look surprised. They look _guilty_. Jo turns red and ducks back into the bathroom. That’s all Castiel can stand to see. If Dean says anything, he doesn’t hear it. His arms feel heavy and numb and he can’t breathe in the hallway. He’s suffocating in the same space as Dean.

Castiel gets the door open and falls through it. He can’t get out into the open fast enough. His stomach hurts, his chest hurts, his throat and his eyes hurt. He still can’t breathe and he doubles over, gasping for air. It feels like he’s going to throw up and he can feel the burn of tears behind his eyes. Dean _lied_ to him. He doesn’t know how he lied when the kin-connection had been open and Castiel _knows_ his words were truth, but Dean _lied_.

Did he even have head pain today? Or was it all just to get Castiel off the boat so Dean could be with Jo?

Castiel can feel the press of Sam’s concern along the edges of the storm that fills his head. He hears his footsteps behind him, the squeak of his shoes on the wet deck. It means nothing to him. There are too many questions, too many truths to doubt. So _why’s_ , so much he should be angry at, so much _pain._

Why can’t he _breathe_?

He can feel the air pass over his lips but it’s not reaching his lungs and his chest is burning. It hurts so much and it’s not just because he can’t breathe. Castiel presses a hand to his throat and he can feel the flutter of his gills against his fingertips and he can’t stop them, he can’t stop the tears or the feeling like he’s being crushed and he needs to get away, as far as he can until everything stops _hurting_.

Castiel doesn’t fight the hands that grab him under his arms. They drag him to the door in the railings and he manages the rest of the way, barely settling on the swim-deck before he’s in the water and diving. He hardly even chokes on the water as it floods his throat and runs through his gills. It fills him but it does nothing to fill the hollow space that’s been carved out of his chest.

He has to rely on his echoes to guide him as he dives well past where the kin-connection snaps, leaving Sam’s angry concern as nothing more than wisps on the edge of his mind that fade away the farther he goes. There’s no other place for him to go but into the deeps. It’s the one place no one on that boat can follow him and the one place that feels the most like home right now. He doesn’t care about the anchor that follows him down, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bring himself to return to the boat.

There was – is – _was_ so much he was willing to give up for Dean and that had made Dean so _happy_. He can clearly call up the memory and the feelings and just how much that decision had made Dean light up almost like he had his own natural glow. Dean said he wanted him. He’d been so adamant that he wouldn’t want anyone else while he’s with Castiel. And it had been the truth. Castiel _knows_ it was. There were no walls blocking anything from him in the kin-connection when Dean had said it. There was nothing could have hidden whether or not it was a lie.

It doesn’t make _sense_.

And that’s why it hurts. What could he have done to make Dean change his mind? Was it everything that Sam and Meg and Jess and whoever else had said? He doesn’t know. Castiel could ask. He could turn around and go back and force his way into Dean’s head and take the answers. A vicious part of him thinks Dean deserves the pain that would cause him. It wouldn’t even be a shadow of the hurt that fills him now.

But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to go anywhere near Dean right now.

Castiel swims until it’s nothing but him, his light, and the bottom dwellers. He waits for the anchor to thud dully against the ground in the distance before he finds it with the clicking-chirps of his echoes. He should just leave the boat here and keep going south. Now that he knows the direction to go in he knows that he won’t get lost.

He tries.

He can’t.

 

More than once he swims away from the anchor, but he never gets even half a league before he turns around and goes back. Castiel is angry. He’s angry and hurt, but he wants answers. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to bring himself to talk to Dean again, but there will be a time – tomorrow, maybe – when he can and then he’ll get his answers. Even if they’re going to hurt, Castiel has to know _why_. He can’t just leave and go back to the colony without knowing why Dean did this, why he hurt him like this.

Sam said that Castiel wouldn’t be able to leave the place he and Dean would call home without risking being seen by other humans. If that really is the case, then Dean would be able to leave him there and go out where Castiel could never follow, where he can’t have the kin-connection with him. What if he would do the same things there as he did here? How is Castiel supposed to be able to trust him again?

He doesn’t know if he can. He doesn’t know if he can forgive Dean for this

With the end of his tail curled around the chain of the anchor, Castiel folds in on himself. He presses his face to his scales, hugging his tail to his chest and he fights the tears. If Dean hurt him like this, he doesn’t deserve them.

He just wants to know _why_.

The night slips by without any rest. Castiel only knows that it’s morning because he can feel it in his bones. He’s barely moved and he doesn’t want to move now. He doesn’t want to go back up to the boat yet and he doesn’t know when – or if – he’s going to be able to. His chest still hurts and the thought of eating makes his stomach cramp. The thought of seeing Dean makes that numb pain in his chest twist cruelly and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep the tears away.

Sometimes he feels vibrations along the chain and it sways back and forth. It’s pulled taught in one direction and it’s the only reminder Castiel has that far above his head there is a storm forcing waves against the boat, beating it with rain driven by the world-breath. It’s only when he remembers that Jess said if the storm is bad enough that they would have to go to shore that he moves.

What if they’re not going because he’s down here and they don’t want to just leave him? Even if he’s angry at Dean, there are still so many other people on the boat. It is guilt and concern for their safety that forces Castiel to uncurl. His muscles are sore and he winces and stretches before he starts following the anchor chain. He doesn’t go very far before his echolocation lights up with the shape of a shark circling lazily around the twanging, vibrating chain. It’s long and thin and Castiel knows the breed. It’s dangerous, fast and deadly.

It’s still quite a ways above him, but Castiel doesn’t want to take any chances. He pulls his sword from the belt and he dives again, keeping focus on the blurry shape. If he had slept during the night, if he hadn’t tired himself out swimming for half of yesterday, he might be confident enough in being able to drive the shark off.

He breaks away and swims until his echoes don’t even pick up the chain. From there he turns back toward the surface. His echoes come back to him with nothing in all directions as he steadily climbs. The water doesn’t get much lighter and sometimes lightning brightens it far above him. The waves are bigger than before and Castiel has to swim well below them or they end up pulling at him like they have currents of their own.

The shark hovers around the chain at the very edge of his echoes and Castiel keeps most of his attention on it even while he tries to see the deck when he gets close enough to the boat. It’s facing the wrong direction, the front of the ship turned into the waves and the anchor shakes under it with every crash against it. No one is on deck and Castiel isn’t surprised. Anyone out there now would be having a very hard time moving around.

Castiel moves to the back of the boat and he stretches out his senses, feeling for the minds closest to the door. There are a few. Two of them are familiar and three of them are new to him. He ignores the ones he doesn’t know and the kin-connection opens with both the ones that he does, keeping solid walls between them and his emotions. Relief floods thick through both the links from Sam and Jess.

 _(We didn’t know if you were going to come back or not.)_ Sam’s relief immediately turns to concern. _(Are you okay?)_

Jess is pulsing all sorts of different emotions. There’s anger, concern, remorse, sympathy and too many for Castiel to pay any care to right now. Most of his attention is still on the shark and he blocks out her emotions to keep his mind clear.

 _(I don’t want to talk about that.)_ It’s the last thing he wants to discuss and Castiel is trying very hard not to notice that he didn’t sense Dean in the room. He’s trying equally hard not to think about where Dean might be.

Confusion curls around Sam’s next words. _(Did you want to come on board?)_

_(No. I came to check on the boat and the storm. Do you need to go to shore?)_

_(If the waves get any bigger we might. Are you okay out there?)_

Castiel hesitates, flashing alarm through the kin-connection. The shark is moving away from the chain and he twists to keep it in sight of his echoes, chirping them continuously.

 _(Castiel?)_ Sam’s concern pushes against the walls insistently. _(What’s wrong? Is it the storm?)_

 _(Shark.)_ He turns so he remains facing the blurry shape skittering in and out of the edges of his echoes.

Panic bursts sharp enough for Castiel to wince from it. Moments later the same feeling pushes through the barriers he has keeping Jess’s emotions separate. A barrage of concerned questions fills his head and it stuns him. Castiel shakes his head to clear it, forcing the kin-connection silent by spreading the walls outward. The shark is no longer returning in his echoes but he can’t be too careful.

 _(It’s fine for now.)_ He lowers the walls enough to soothe the others. _(If Benny needs to take the boat to shore, he can. I will wait here.)_ If he could bring himself to say it, he would tell them to turn around and go home. He would tell them that he can complete the rest of the journey on his own. He would tell them goodbye. But he can’t. He won’t leave like that and especially not without knowing _why_.

Sam is still brimming with worry. _(Not if there’s a shark out there. Bobby and I are coming to get you.)_

Castiel looks toward the boat. Even as far down as he is he can tell that the deck is pitching too much for them to be able to walk properly, if they can even make it the few spaces through the hallway. He watches lightning arc across the mottled grey-black clouds and the thunder that rumbles soon after shakes the very sea. It’s loud enough to make his head hurt and he covers his side-fans, diving to get away from it.

The worry in the kin-connection is persistent and annoying. _(Castiel? Is the shark back?)_

_(No. The storm is very loud.)_

_(Where is the shark?)_

Castiel looks up again, watching more lightning fill the clouds. None of his echoes return with the shape of the shark. _(I don’t know, but I’m going to go back to the deeps. Tell Benny he should take the boat to shore for your safety. I won’t be coming on board any time soon.)_

The silence from both Jess and Sam is unnerving and Castiel prepares to sever the connections completely before he dives. He isn’t expecting Jess to make a desperate grab through the link, tugging his attention tightly and focusing it on them. It’s the first time she’s done it and it twinges painfully through his head.

 _(It’s our fault.)_ She says quickly, the words almost slurring together.

That numb, hollow space in his chest twists and he doesn’t answer.

 _(Dean never would have done that if we hadn’t said anything about what life for you would be like back home.)_ Jess continues and it only makes Castiel’s empty stomach feels tight.

 _(You can’t be held responsible for his actions. He chose to –)_ He cuts off and smothers those memories. They sear his thoughts and he doesn’t want to think about them. _(Dean_ lied _to me.)_

_(Have you talked to him yet? Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like.)_

Castiel sneers and shoves the memories of what he’d seen – the very memories he doesn’t want to think about – into the kin-connection. He forces them into Jess’s link and relishes in the surprise and the vicious burn of anger that follows them.

 _(Don’t take it out on Jess.)_ Sam scolds him harshly and Castiel reminds him that she just claimed that they’re to blame. _(Will you at least hear us out? Let me explain why Dean did what he did?)_

_(I don’t want to hear it.)_

_(He_ wants _you to hate him.)_ Sam rushes the words too, forcing them through before Castiel can even think of closing the kin-connection.

That makes him stop and pain flares in his chest. His thought-voice is quiet, soft and small like a child’s. _(Why?)_

 _(Dean thinks we’re right. He said it earlier when he told us that he didn’t know what to do. I never thought he’d do something like this.)_ Jess explains, taking up Sam’s silence. _(We just wanted you two to think it through before making such a big decision like leaving everything you’ve ever known behind and he – Dean doesn’t think you’re going to be happy there anymore. He thinks he won’t be able to give you everything that you need and he -)_

 _(He’s scared I would want to leave him.)_ Castiel finishes. This conversation is doing nothing to alleviate the ache in his chest. _(Why didn’t he just talk to me? He didn’t need to do_ that _. He said he doesn’t – that he would never –)_

Sam presses through the kin-connection, soothing over the ragged edges of Castiel’s mind. _(If there’s one redeeming quality about Dean, it’s that he’s loyal to a fault. He doesn’t cheat, Cas. He simply wouldn’t. He didn’t.)_

 _(But you_ saw _it.)_ Castiel pulls away from the touch, building up the walls around his mind.

 _(No, we didn’t actually_ see _it.)_ Sam’s conviction grows with every word and he pulls up images of everything he saw. _(Dean’s always been good at tricking people, at scamming them. It’s how he made most of his money growing up. What we saw is what he wanted us to see, to make us think exactly what you’re thinking.)_

 _(Stop trying to justify what he did!)_ Castiel snarls, slashing at the water with his sword and tail.

Frustration feeds into the kin-connection from both links and that hollow place in Castiel’s chest is filling with anger. He doesn’t care that he can’t feel any untruths in their words. It feels like everyone keeps lying to him and it _hurts_.

 _(Jo is here.)_ Jess says so quietly that he nearly misses it and it only makes his anger grow.

 _(Why isn’t she with_ Dean? _)_ He sneers the thoughts, lining them with all his disdain for her and the part she played in everything.

_(She wants to talk to you.)_

Castiel laughs, a broken noise that falls apart in the water. _(I don’t want to talk to her.)_

Sam’s irritation keeps growing and he’s struggling with it, trying to stay calm. _(Just hear her out, please? What happened isn’t sitting right with her and she explained it to us. We don’t agree with what Dean did, but we understand now and we just want_ you _to understand. Even if you still hate him for it afterward, at least you’ll understand_ why _he did it.)_

That one word stops him again. His fans flare in surprise and he floats, adipose fins rolling to keep him in place. It’s what he wanted all night. The one thing that pulsed through his head with every fresh wave of hurt in his heart. _Why_.

He catches the movement in the corner of his eye, illuminated by the flash of lightning above. With a sick twist in his gut, Castiel realizes he was too preoccupied with talking to Sam and Jess that he hasn’t been properly monitoring the area since the shark moved out of the boundaries of his echoes. He doesn’t move beyond turning his head toward it, fixating on the shark with his echoes.

 _(Castiel?)_ Sam’s concern sounds so far away.

 _(The railing’s door. Get to it._ Now _.)_ He moves as slowly as he can, angling himself toward the back of the boat. The distance is both at once too near and too far. Too close for him to get the speed he needs and far enough that he might not make it.

The moment Sam says they’re on deck, he beats his tail through the water. His fans are tucked close to his body and he spreads his fingers wide, webbing billowing as it catches in the water and propels him that little bit faster. His sword is a hindrance while held in his hand, but he can’t let it go, not when his echoes return with the blur of the shark taking chase.

He breaks the water at an angle to the swim-deck. His momentum carries him high enough to get most of his torso out of the water and then there are hands grabbing his arms. Sam and Bobby drag him the rest of the way and Castiel curls his tail up as quickly as he can, not caring how the edge of the swim-deck scrapes against his scales and pinches at his adipose-fans.

He’s halfway through the door in the railings when the shark breaks the waves too. Its jaws are scant finger-widths from his tail and Castiel jerks it out of the way, slamming it painfully into the railings before one final pull has him safely on the other side, Sam and Bobby falling over with the effort. Jess swings the door shut and no one moves, watching as the shark slides off the swim-deck and disappears into the waters.

“Here’s a suggestion.” Bobby speaks loud enough to be heard over the world-breath and the rain. “Let’s try and not do that again.”

No one disagrees.

 _(I like that plan.)_ Castiel slumps against Sam’s shoulder and breathes a sigh of relief. _(That was not pleasant.)_

_(Have you ever had to fight a shark before?)_

_(Yes. But under much better circumstances and never on my own.)_ He doesn’t bother listing any other reason and his adrenaline is already starting to wear off. _(You’re not going to let me go back in the water after that, are you?)_

Jess crouches by his tail, touching at it lightly. _(Not a snowball’s chance in hell. You hit those rails pretty hard. You okay?)_

He nods and tries to hide how tired he’s starting to feel. Even with the extra sleep he got yesterday, he’s exhausted; emotionally and physically. Castiel push-pulls himself to the door being held open by Jo. Meg and Jess had been holding on to Sam and Bobby to make sure they didn’t fall from the swim-deck. Once everyone is inside, grouped uncomfortably in the hall and holding onto the railings, Jo gets everyone towels before they’re able to return to the bedroom. It’s hard for Castiel to look at her and when Sam helps him into the room – half carrying, half dragging him – Castiel refuses to sit on the bed he and Dean shared.

Sam helps him up onto his own bed and sits next to him. Bobby and Meg climb up into their respective beds – Bobby with considerably more grumbling and complaining than Meg. Jess and Jo sit opposite from Castiel and Sam.

 _(Are you willing to listen to Jo now?)_ Jess asks him cautiously.

Castiel is too tired to refuse. He curls his tail to his chest and leans into the back corner at the end of the bed, his chin resting on his scales. Jo’s mind is foreign to him and he waits for Sam and Jess to explain to her how she should speak with him.

“It’ll be easiest if you just think of the memories you want him to see.” Jess waves her hands while she talks. “Don’t try and block him out of anything. The more Castiel can see and sense, the easier it will be for him to know that you’re telling the truth. If you’re having trouble, he might just find the memory himself to get it over with. It’ll feel weird, but just let him do his thing, okay?”

Jo nods. “Got it. Let’s do this.”

She looks at Castiel determinedly, her hands clasping her knees tightly. She nods again and Castiel reaches for her mind. It opens easily under his touch and it’s bright and young. There are darker areas, as everyone has, but Castiel ignores them. He doesn’t delve any further into her mind than he has to. It’s the recent memories, the ones that she’s focusing on intently, that he needs to pay attention to.

The memory starts out hazy in a room full of shiny instruments, tables and ledges. Castiel recognizes it as a kitchen from when Jess told him about them so long ago. There’s a female with wavy, dark yellow hair standing at one of the ledges and Jo’s memories identify her as Ellen, her mother. The memories shift, leaving the kitchen to go out onto the deck where all the tables and chairs are.

It’s disorienting to watch the memory move from the eating area to follow along the side of the ship to the top of the stairs that lead down toward the swim-deck. The Jo of the memories starts to go down the stairs, but stops and turns. The hollow space in Castiel’s chest twinges and he digs his fingers into his tail at the sight of Dean sitting on one of the last few steps of the stairs that lead up to where Crowley stays. His elbows are on his knees and he is holding his head in his hands.

He submerses himself into the memory, soaking in all the sensory pieces that Jo remembers and feels. There’s confusion and concern as she calls Dean name and he looks up at her. Castiel has spent a month learning Dean’s facial expression and he can easily tell that Dean is forcing his expression to remain blank. His eyes are red rimmed and he’s too pale. Jo asks what’s wrong and Dean immediately replies that he has a headache, only to rescind his response with his next breath.

Jo takes Dean to her room for the privacy their conversation requires. Castiel can barely breathe through the memory of Dean sitting on Jo’s bed like he had been on the stairs and asking – begging – Jo for her help. Certain sentences ring loudly in the connection. They’re the ones that Jo wants him to pay the most attention to and they make Castiel’s empty stomach clench.

“It really is Stockholm Syndrome, Jo. I was the only thing that made Cas happy in the hell Lilith gave him and Cas has just _tricked_ himself into thinking he won’t be happy back with his family if I’m not there, that he can’t be happy without me. It’s not healthy for him, it’s not healthy for me.”

Castiel wants to vehemently deny it, to break from the memories and close himself to these words – no matter how broken Jo remembers Dean’s voice being. He forces himself to stay and continue to listen.

“I’m not worth losing his entire family and his home. I thought I’d be able to make things work back home, but I don’t have the first idea of where I’m going to put him. I can’t move him around in the Impala with me and I can’t just leave him with Bobby or Sammy. Cas is never going to get to be _himself_ there. He won’t get to swim, and if we have neighbours than he won’t be able to sing. I can’t do that to him, I can’t take away everything that Cas _is_.”

Castiel tilts his head and presses his face to the fold of his tail and he continues to listen, the memory playing against the back of his eyelids as Jo concentrates on giving him everything she saw and heard.

“He’ll hate me. In a week, two weeks, a month, two months. I don’t even fucking know, but he’s going to hate me for it. Cas is going to realize what a big mistake he made and he’s going to hate me for taking him away. I can’t take having a home – whatever the hell we’d end up calling ‘home’ – with him and then losing him like that, Jo. I _can’t_. It’s going to fucking destroy me.”

Castiel remembers this. Dean told him the same thing once. He listens to Jo tell Dean to talk to him, to try and work things out and Dean refuses.

“We already talked about it. His family won’t stand for him to be with me if I stay here. He’d lose them or worse. Cas is stubborn, Jo. So fucking stubborn. You can _feel_ it when he’s in your head. He’s made his decision. He said it himself.” Dean’s little broken laugh echoes through the memory and it makes Castiel flinch so hard Sam puts his hand on his arm as a comfort. “He’s convinced himself he _loves_ me enough that he’s not going to give me up. He’s going to ruin himself because he loves _me_.”

Dean’s thought process becomes transparent from there and Castiel’s adipose fins flutter under his arms and against the blanket. He doesn’t want to hear it. He needs to, but he doesn’t want to.

“He won’t leave as long as he loves me.”

“I need to make Cas hate me.”

Jo’s emotions are scattered; sympathy, sadness, and anger at his plan. The last melts away when Dean looks up at her and there are tears on his face as he asks her to help him again. The memory speeds up, glossing over the pieces of the plan that Castiel mostly knows from experiencing the results first hand. Dean leads Jo to the bathroom at the appropriate hour when the others would start getting ready for bed and when Sam would be calling Castiel back onto the boat.

In the bathroom, Castiel watches through Jo’s eyes as Dean removes all his clothes except for his under shorts and he wraps a towel around his waist. Jo’s confusion fills the memory as Dean twists his right arm up and he starts sucking marks into his upper arm. She doesn’t ask and Dean doesn’t explain, but Castiel knows why and it’s a bitter relief he feels knowing that it wasn’t Jo who left the marks on Dean.

Jo waits at the door, checking for when Sam goes outside to get Castiel. In that time period, they wet their hair in the sink and Dean goes over the rest of the plan quickly. Jo asks if it would be more helpful if they kissed and Castiel doesn’t hide from her the surge of hatred he feels at her hopeful suggestion. Dean barely even acknowledges it, shaking his head as he peeks around the door frame.

The memory skitters over what happened, the fake words and the smiles. When Jo ducks back into the bathroom, the memory turns and watches through the door. Through her eyes, Castiel watches Dean go from looking guilty to horrified. He even takes a step forward and Castiel knows that’s when he turned away, when he made his frantic escape from what he never wanted to see.

Instead of following, Dean aborts the second step down the hall and staggers into the bathroom. He slumps against the wall between the door and the sink and slides down to sit on the floor, knees against his chest and his arms crossed over them. Dean presses his face into them and he doesn’t make a sound, he doesn’t even move, but surprise still burns through Jo’s memory. She leaves the bathroom without another word and she shuts the door behind her.

The memory ends there and Castiel doesn’t move. He sends a small pulse of gratitude into this link with Jo, the only thanks he’ll give her for showing him these memories. Remorse fills his head before he severs the link with her.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers into the room. “I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but Dean just sounded so – I couldn’t say ‘no’. It seemed like the right thing to do, for both of you and I – He was so –”

Jess hushes her and Castiel doesn’t listen to the murmured words she uses to placate Jo. Sam pats his arm lightly but Castiel still doesn’t move. Curiosity and concern push through the kin-connection from both Sam and Jess and he isn’t sure if he has an answer for either of them. He still feels so numb inside, but at the same time he’s so _angry_.

Dean still lied to him. It’s not the same lie as Castiel thought it was, but it’s still a _lie_. It’s one that hurt him bad enough that it fractured the trust he holds in Dean. He’s relieved that Dean didn’t really ‘cheat’ on him, but he still set out to hurt him. Dean hurt him on purpose and Castiel isn’t sure if he can forgive him for that, not now at least. Not while the wound is still so fresh.

If Dean ever wants his forgiveness, he’s going to have to earn it.

 _(For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.)_ Sam’s guilt drags at Castiel’s thoughts. _(I didn’t know Dean was going to do anything like that. We really just wanted the both of you to know everything before you made such a huge decision like that. Jess and I – Bobby too – we would have been more than happy to help the both of you when we got home, you know that, right?)_

Castiel doesn’t want to answer that question. He doesn’t want to think anymore. _(I’m tired.)_

Sam gets him one of the pillows from the other end of the bed and Castiel places it in the corner. He shifts around so he’s lying on his side, his back to the rest of the bed and his tail still folded to his chest between him and the wall. Castiel doesn’t fully cut the kin-connection with Sam and Jess, but he lets it fall slack between them, leaving it quiet enough for him to be able to give his mind a rest. Sam pulls the curtain halfway down the bed, shielding Castiel from most of the room and the light. The gesture is appreciated.

He listens to their voices, not caring about their words, until he falls asleep.

“The thing I don’t get is why Dean was sitting outside Crowley’s office.” Jess keeps her voice lowered. “You said he looked like he’d been -”

“He wasn’t smiling and puking rainbows, if that’s what you’re asking. If he hadn’t been before, he probably would’ve if I hadn’t showed up.”

Sam’s voice is closer and it rumbles deeper than the others. “He was fine when he left for his walk. Down about what he was going to do, but he wasn’t down enough for him to come up with that crazy plan.”

“Would it be of help any if I said that I saw Crowley talking to him on deck?” Meg’s voice comes down from above and it sounds farther away the sleepier Castiel gets. “They were walking to his office the last I saw them before I came down here with breakfast.”

“What in the hell did that kilt-wearer want with Dean? They haven’t said more than two words to each other since we came on board.” Bobby’s gruff tones startle Castiel back awake momentarily.

That’s the last he remembers hearing until a loud crash has him sitting upright, hand on the hilt of his dagger. He almost unfolds to bat aside the curtain with his tail, but the kin-connection is alive with Sam’s confusion and worry.

“- the hell are you doing?”

“Where is it, Sammy? Where the fuck did y’put it?” Dean’s voice sounds panicked, the words shuffled together and stumbling over one another.

He nearly stops breathing at the sound of it and Castiel tucks into the corner. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Dean yet or if he’s ready to talk to him. The anger still burns in the pit of his stomach and the hurt still clenches in his chest even though he doesn’t feel quite so hollow anymore.

“Where’s what?”

“The thing I was making f’r Cas!” Things are sliding and banging on the other side of the curtain and it’s Jess who explains the noises – Dean is rummaging through the drawers at the end of Sam’s bed. “I need it! Y’got the kin’nection with ‘im? Call ‘im. We gotta – he’s gotta -”

“Dean, you’re _drunk_.”

One of the drawers slams shut so hard it makes the curtain rustle. “Not _now_ , Sam! This is fucking _important_. Call Cas an’ tell me where the goddamn bag is!”

“You put it in your underwear drawer when you finished it.” Jess cuts in before Sam can raise his voice any louder, his irritation already boiling in the kin-connection. “Dean, you need to calm down and tell us what’s going on.”

“I gotta give this t’Cas and he’s gotta go. Gotta swim fuckin’ fast as he can away from this fuckin’ boat.” Another drawer slides open and Castiel sees a pair of socks fly past the end of the curtain, thumping against the wall before falling to the floor. There’s a rustling sound and the drawer slams shut. “Benny heard ‘em talkin’ to Meg after lunch. Heard the whole damn thing. Cas needs to go an’ he’s not gonna want this anymore but I’m gonna give it to him and he can bury it in a goddamn volcano f’r all I care. Sammy, have y’called him yet?”

“Dean!” Sam sounds stern, bordering on angry. But Castiel can feel the anxiety pulsing hot through the kin-connection. It’s coming from Jess too and it’s seething in Castiel’s chest in triplicate, mingling with his own. “Stop moving and tell us what the _hell_ is going on.”

“We drugged everyone’s supper except f’r y’guys. Ellen helped. Used the stuff from the kit Pam left us. Everyone’s sleepin’ an’ Benny’s raisin’ anchor.” Dean says it all in a rush and Jess can barely understands the words as they spill out for her to translate them for Castiel. “We can’t trust fuckin’ anyone who wants to help us, Sammy. He doesn’t just want Cas –” His voices hitches and Castiel’s grip on the hilt of his dagger goes white-knuckled. “Crowley wants Cas’s family. He wants the whole colony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: supernatural-loves-of-my-life, forkingspooner, winklefucker185, words-don’t-work, thelittlearchangelthatcould, and seraphlimonade.
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Saturday was my birthday and it’s my rule not to work on my birthday. I was still celebrating with friends on Monday and Tuesday I got a tattoo and Wednesday I worked. They're my weak excuses, but that's about that.**


	37. Swan Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That hollow space in his chest, small and slowly healing, twists and Castiel looks away. It hurts to look at Dean. It hurts to look at him and know Dean made the decision to cause him pain. The reasons why don’t matter to him and neither does the fact that it was all a trick. It’s a relief to know that Dean didn’t actually kiss Jo; to know that everything that had felt like a physical blow yesterday wasn’t true. But he can’t forgive Dean for doing it knowing it would hurt him, knowing the outcome it would have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: apentomyheadandimdead, speight-brigade, angelwhoisinlovewithyou, chicksnicket, pappcave, emerald-soul
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> I have no excuses for the lateness of the chapter.

The room goes silent. Castiel isn’t even sure if anyone is breathing except for Dean’s ragged gasps. Castiel doesn’t move, still processing what Jess translated before the surprise spiked through her mind and Sam’s.

Crowley wants the colony. He’s after Castiel’s _family_ and there’s no way he’ll allow it. He can’t go home if Crowley is going to follow him. Castiel doesn’t know how he would, but humans have so many things. Who knows what kind of machines they have that could follow him? What if Crowley managed to hide another chip in him somehow? What if Meg did it for him when she was taking out the other one? But Dean and Jess had been there the whole time. They wouldn’t have let him do it.

“Stop starin’ at me an’ just fuckin’ _call Cas_.” Dean snaps and there’s a loud bang that makes Castiel flinch. “He needs t’know. He’s not gonna wanna talk t’me or see me so yer gonna hafta tell ‘em, kay, Sammy? Tell ‘em  about Crowley an’ give ‘em this an’ – ”

“Dean –” Sam tries to cut him off.

Castiel’s eyes go to the fingers curling around the edge of the curtain. His heart beats hard against his ribs and he presses his hand to his chest, trying to will it to calm down. If Sam reveals him now, he’ll see Dean and even under the current circumstances he’s not sure if he wants to see him.

“Shut _up_ , Sam!” Dean hisses and there’s another bang. “Y’gotta _listen_. Just lemme tell y’what y’gotta tell ‘em coz’ Cas ain’t gonna wanna see _me_.” His voice drops lower and the sadness in it makes Castiel’s chest ache. “Not after what I did.”

 _(Do you want to see him?)_ Jess presses at his thoughts with her curiosity.

He doesn’t know. Dean keeps talking like this is going to be the last time that Castiel is going to be here. It’s like he doesn’t understand that Castiel can’t leave. He can’t go back to the colony with the threat of Crowley following him home. Castiel expresses this concern through the kin-connection to both Jess and Sam and they both make startled noises.

“Dean,” Sam says slowly and his hand falls away from the curtain. “If Crowley is going to follow him home, Cas isn’t going to leave.”

“Crowley’s not gonna get anywhere near Cas an’ his home!” Dean raises his voice, words slurring together. “Everybody’s sleepin’ ‘cept us an’ Benny an’ Ellen. We’re turnin’ th’boat around an’ takin’ it as far from Cas an’ his colony as we can get. An’ we’re gonna tell Crowley when he wakes up that Cas is already home an’ he’s moving his colony an’ Crowley’s gonna believe it an’ he’s not gonna come back for Cas coz’ he’ll think they’ll be long gone before he gets back. That way Cas’s colony doesn’t hafta move a’ Cas can stay an’ be happy with them coz’ he’s not gonna be happy with me an’ he can just keep on hatin’ me an’ –“

Castiel is angry with him. He’s angry and hurt by Dean, but he doesn’t hate him. He shifts closer to the edge of the bed. The rustling sound happens again and Sam makes an annoying noise.

“Give it to ‘em, okay? He won’t wanna hear anythin’ from me, so just – Don’t even tell ‘em it’s from me.” Dean mumbles and the rustling sound increases. “Would y’just _take_ the damn thing already?”

“No.” Sam says it firmly and he steps into view at the end of the curtain, stepping away from Dean. “You can give it to him yourself and you can apologize for the bonehead move you made. If Jo hadn’t told us what the hell you were up to, I’d have punched you out the moment you stepped into this room.”

Dean makes a choked noise. “Y’ _told_ them? F’r fuck’s sake, Sammy tell me y’didn’t tell Cas. He’s not gonna _leave_ if –”

“He didn’t tell Castiel anything.” Jess says loudly, cutting Dean off. “That’s your job. You’re going to tell him you’re sorry. You’re going to explain why you did it. And if you’re very, very lucky – he’ll forgive you. Then you’re going to talk with him like you should have before you made a decision like that without him. Castiel is just as invested in this as you are, Dean. Let him make his own decisions.”

Jess’s words aren’t a complete lie. Sam wasn’t the one who told him. It was Jo directly and that’s probably not something that Dean would consider. He understands that but he doesn’t know what to say to it. And he doesn’t know what he would say to Dean, or if he would be able to pretend that he doesn’t know that Dean hurt him on purpose. It makes his chest ache worse and his throat feels tight and no, he doesn’t want to see Dean right now.

“He’s gonna choose me.” Dean says it low, tired and weak. “Cas already made ‘is choice an’ it’s th’wrong one. I’m not worth losin’ ‘is whole family f’r.”

“Let Castiel decide what he thinks you’re worthy of where he’s concerned.” Sam speaks softly and his hand is on the curtain again. “Are you really going to be able to leave here with Cas hating you?”

Dean makes a sound Castiel doesn’t recognize. It sounds shocked, hurt. Castiel catches himself wishing he could see Dean’s face for the expression he wears. It would be easier to understand what that noise means if he could just _see him_ and have the kin-connection with him. But both thoughts make his stomach twist uncomfortably. He’s not ready for that yet. He still hurts too much.

“Yeah.” Dean voice sounds too thick, the words mashed together enough that Jess doesn’t understand them and Sam is barely able to translate them. “He already hates me, so there’s no point in talkin’ to ‘im. Cas needs to go home. S’where he belongs. We – he doesn’t belong with me. He’s not gonna be happy with me.”

Castiel hugs his tail to his chest and presses his face to his scales. He doesn’t want to hear this. It would be safer for the colony if he never goes back; if he never gives Crowley the chance to follow him. But he wants to, at the very least, say ‘goodbye’ to his family. They need the closure – they need to know what happened to him.

And there’s too little time for him to decide if he wants to say ‘goodbye’ to Dean at all. For as angry and hurt as he is, Castiel still wants Dean. Beneath the splintered trust there’s still warmth in his veins, pulsing with everything that Castiel feels for him. But it’s fractured. It’ll take time to heal and time is the one thing they don’t have right now. They were supposed to have a few more days. He’s not ready.

Why has time never been on their side?

“That’s something you both need to discuss.”

“Goddammit, Sammy! There’s no _time_. We’re turnin’ this boat around _now_.” Dean’s footsteps move across the room and Castiel can see him just beyond the edge of the curtain, placing himself right in front of Sam. “Just f’r once in y’r life do somethin’ I ask an’ fuckin’ _call Cas_ an’ give ‘em this.”

Someone else makes an irritated noise. It’s not Jess or Sam and Castiel can only guess that it’s Jo. His suspicions are confirmed through the kin-connection with Jess moments before Jo speaks. “Why don’t you give it to him yourself?”

Castiel draws back sharply from the edge of the bed when Jo jerks the curtain out of the way. Dean’s expression flickers through surprise, horror and guilt before it settles on anger and he turns to glare at the others. Sam puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder and forces him to turn around, shoving him the few steps to the bed.

That hollow space in his chest, small and slowly healing, twists and Castiel looks away. It hurts to look at Dean. It hurts to look at him and know Dean made the decision to cause him pain. The reasons why don’t matter to him and neither does the fact that it was all a trick. It’s a relief to know that Dean didn’t actually kiss Jo; to know that everything that had felt like a physical blow yesterday wasn’t true. But he can’t forgive Dean for doing it knowing it would hurt him, knowing the outcome it would have.

And now they don’t have the time for Dean to try and earn his forgiveness, or if he ever will try. Any decision Castiel makes now is going to be coloured by this and he hates it. He hates not knowing what to do and being pressured into making a decision that needs time, that needs to be discussed and thought over and he doesn’t want to do any of that right now.

Dean is whispering to Sam now, voice low and words mumbled enough that Castiel can’t hear them. It doesn’t matter though, since Sam continues to translate everything he hears through the kin-connection.

 _(You deserve to know everything that’s going on after what Jess and I basically responsible for putting you through.)_ He explains around Dean’s question of just how much he’s been translating for Castiel.

“Everything that he needs to know but not what _you_ need to tell him.” Sam bites out, lying as he turns Dean around again. “If I were you, I’d start with an apology and _why_.”

“Sam, there’s no –”

“If we tie up anyone who might give us a problem, then it won’t matter. We can stay here for as long as necessary –”

“There’s a _storm_ –”

“It started dying off after lunch and the waves are a lot calmer now. If you were able to walk from Benny’s room to here without falling on your face, then it’s fine.”

“Sam, _no_ –”

“Dean Winchester.” Jess says his name hard enough that even Castiel recoils from it. She grabs Dean by the front of his shirt and shakes him hard enough that Dean almost drops the plastic bag he’s holding folded to his chest. “If Castiel is going home today, if this is the last time that you see him, you are _not_ going to part on the bullshit that you pulled yesterday. Do you understand me?”

He’s staring down at her with wide eyes and Jess shakes him again. “You’re going to hate yourself for this and I will not have that. We are not going to let you do this to yourself. Do you hear me?”

Dean pushes her hands away and shakes his head. “I’m makin’ the decision here. I’m not takin’ Cas home with me.”

“Why?” Castiel interrupts Jess’s response and everyone except Dean looks at him.

Ignoring how looking at Dean makes his stomach flip, Castiel uncurls from the corner of the bed and looks up at him, and he is _angry_. Dean’s wide eyes and flushed face do nothing to deter that rage. No one gets to make Castiel’s decisions for him. Not Lilith, and not Dean. He reaches for Dean’s mind and forces the _(Why?)_ through the kin-connection before the link is fully made. Dean gasps loudly and he flinches away, his thoughts stumbling to collect together enough to form the walls necessary to push Castiel from his mind.

He stumbles and hisses, pain slipping into place in his expression as Castiel seizes his mind and fills it with all the hurt, the betrayal, and anger he feels. Sam has to catch Dean when his legs threaten to give out from under him.

 _(Why?)_ He sifts the question into the heavy fog that clouds Dean’s thoughts, that makes them slow and stumbling. _(I wanted – still want –_ you _. I’m mad at you. You_ hurt _me. I haven’t forgiven you, I don’t know if I even can. But you_ promised _that you don’t – that you wouldn’t –_ why _, Dean?)_

Dean shakes his head and presses a hand to his temple. _(But you’re not happy -)_

 _(You lied to me and you hurt me, of course I’m not happy right now. I’m_ furious _.)_ Castiel’s tail lashes across the bed, the end slapping against the wall. _(What Jess and Sam were saying gave you doubts, I understand that. I don’t understand why that would make you – why you would go to Jo instead of talking to_ me _about it.)_

 _(Cas -_ stop - _)_ He shakes his head hard and makes a wounded sound. His thoughts start coming together, building the walls to keep Castiel out. _(It doesn’t matter – you’re going home. You can’t come with me if I’m not gonna take you. You’re not – an’ I’m – it’s not gonna work. It was nice while it lasted but I can’t take you with me. Not anymore. It’s not gonna work.)_

Castiel pulls himself closer to the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the bedding. _(How do you know? How do you know that we couldn’t have made it work? How do you know that you wouldn’t have been enough for me?)_

 _(Because_ this _isn’t permanent. Nothing ever is an’ you don’t know any more than I do whether we’ll still feel the same in a month or two months or a year. We don’t know how either of us gonna feel when our situation is all different. I can’t – I don’t – you’re stayin’ here.)_ Dean shakes his head again, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes. _(You’re gonna go home. I don’t want you comin’ with me anymore.)_

It’s the resolve behind the words that hits Castiel hard enough his gills flutter and his next breath is lost in a gasp. He loses his firm hold on the kin-connection, too surprised to keep the hold he needs on it. Dean slides up the rest of the walls the moment Castiel’s touch slips and moments later he severs it, cutting Castiel out of his mind harshly.

Sam pushes past Dean and both his hands close over the sides of his neck, pinning his gills flat. “Don’t do that again. Breathe with your lungs, Cas. Breathe.” He looks over his shoulder back. “What the hell did you just say to him?”

Dean staggers back to lean against the opposite bed. “Told ‘em the truth. I don’t want ‘em coming home with us anymore.”

The hollow space in Castiel’s chest twinges painfully at the words and he struggles to suck in a breath around his gills. Anger flares brightly through the link with Jess and even though Castiel adverts his eyes, looking down at his lap, he still knows that she hits Dean in the arm as hard as she can. It takes several minutes of him taking deep, steady breaths before Sam is convinced he’s not going to continue to be able to breathe on his own.

 _(It’s true.)_ Castiel tells Sam and Jess, his mind-voice sounding like a quiet child again. His fans flatten and he digs his fingers into the blanket harder, knuckles white. _(He wasn’t lying. Dean doesn’t – he doesn’t want me anymore.)_ Something sharp stabs through his chest when he says it and Castiel has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep any tears at bay.

Jess punches Dean again and he grumbles under his breath.

“Stop _lying_ to him!”

_(It wasn’t a lie.)_

_(Yes, it was. I don’t know how he’s hiding it, but he’s_ lying _. We all–_ you – _know_ _that Dean wants you. If there’s one constant in all of this, it’s that he cares for you and he wants you. He’s only doing what he thinks is best for you, even though it’s the wrong thing – the worst thing – for him to be doing.)_ Jess sounds so firm that Castiel wishes he could believe her. But he’d felt the conviction. Dean, at least, believes his own words.

Jess huffs loudly and there’s the sound of her smacking Dean’s arm again. “I don’t get you, Dean. After you and Cas made up you were pretty much fine, so how the hell did us just telling you to think end up with you pulling all this bullshit –” She stops and gasps. “Wait. Didn’t Meg say she saw you and Crowley talking? It was him, wasn’t it? What did he tell you?”

“Nothin’ I didn’t already hear from you guys.” Dean mumbles. “If someone like Crowley – someone who barely even knows us – can see how we’re gonna crash an’ burn – that it’s not gonna end well –”

Castiel puts his hands over his side-fans and shakes his head. _(Stop it! I don’t want to hear anymore.)_

There’s the sound of another heavy smack and Dean hisses. “Jesus, Jess -!”

Heavy footsteps pound loudly in the hallway before the door bangs against the wall when someone enters the room. Castiel doesn’t want to look. He wants to curl away in a corner of the deeps and wait for all of this to just disappear, until everything has faded into the past and he won’t feel like _this_ anymore. Until he won’t feel this pain in his chest like a knife under his skin, twisting in that hollow space where he thinks his heart used to be.

“Mom?” Jo sounds surprised.

“The anchor is up.” Ellen is breathing hard. “Benny says he’s hitting the throttle in a few minutes. If your mermaid is going, he’s gotta go now.”

Dean makes that surprised, wounded noise again and Castiel feels sick. He’s not ready to go but he can’t stay here, not when Dean doesn’t want him. Even if Dean was somehow lying – but why would he say it? Why would he keep hurting him like that? Just to get him to leave?

If they only had more _time_ –

“Enough fuckin’ around.” Dean grunts and something hard and crinkling presses against Castiel’s chest.

Automatically he drops his hands to hold it in place. He opens his eyes and looks down at the plastic bag Dean had been holding. Whatever is inside is hard and square with a thick edge. Castiel has no idea what it is and before he can open the bag and take it out, Dean is pulling him from the bed. He does not go easily. There’s too much anger and hurt for Castiel to let Dean touch him again. He snarls and nearly drops the bag, using one hand to push at Dean’s shoulders, his face, wherever he can reach.

“No!” His tail crashes against the bed and the wall, beating against Dean’s legs hard enough to make him stagger and nearly drop him. “No touch! Dean, no!”

Castiel ends up with Dean’s shoulder digging into his stomach and he does drop the bag. He’s vaguely aware that Sam picks it up but Castiel is too focused on trying to squirm his way out of the tight hold Dean has around his hips and where his cast is digging into his tail as he tries to pin it to his chest to keep Castiel from struggling. It takes more time than it should have for Dean to get them out the door. Castiel’s elbow hits the edge of the door frame and he hisses as pain flares up his arm.

“Dean, stop –” He keeps shouting as the others follow as closely behind them as they dare while Dean staggers the few steps to the door.

Sam wasn’t lying when he said that the storm had abated. The rain is lighter and the world-breath doesn’t push as hard. The waves only back the boat rock instead of causing the deck to buck harshly in the swells. Dean nearly goes to his knees several times, slipping and sliding across the deck to the railings. Castiel knows what he’s going to do and he doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. If Jess is so sure that Dean was lying, maybe he really was and he’s found some way to trick the kin-connection. Or maybe he wasn’t lying because he believes what everyone has told him even though it’s not really what he wants. He doesn’t know but he doesn’t want them to say ‘goodbye’ like this. Not with all this hurt between them after everything he gave to Dean, not after everything that they shared.

“No, Dean, no!” Castiel fights all the way to the wall that Dean veers away from the railings to head toward.

He must be leaving marks where he scrabbles at Dean’s back through the shirt and Castiel tries very hard not to think that those might be the last he ever leaves on Dean. Castiel is angry, hurt, and afraid. It’s suffocating him, pressing on his chest like Dean’s shoulder into his stomach. It’s too soon. No matter how angry he is he never wanted to say goodbye, not yet.

“Stop, Dean!” Castiel feels the edge of the wall against his tail and something jerks hard in his chest. He twists and gets a hand against Dean’s cheek. “Please, Dean –”

“For Christ’s sake, Dean would you just stop for a second and listen to him?” Sam shouts into the storm. “Cas isn’t ready yet! Stop and fucking _talk to him_ for five seconds!”

Dean shakes his head, dislodging Castiel’s hand and it slips to his neck. “We talked. I told ‘em what you wanted me t’tell ‘em an’ we’re done. Say ‘goodbye’ while y’still got th’chance.”

Sam makes a frustrated noise that mirrors the expression on Jess’s face. “Dean, just _stop_ –”

“Cas needs to go home. S’what we were workin’ toward this whole time: getting Cas home.” Dean keeps muttering against his hip. The wall is digging into his tail under Dean’s arm, but he’s not moving from this spot by the wall. “You’re listenin’ right, Cas? You go home. You stay angry with me. You keep hatin’ me an’ you forget about us. You stay the fuck away from humans an’ you be happy with yer family.”

“No.” Castiel drags at Dean’s shirt when he leans him away, pushing him onto the wall. His fingers catch in the string of Dean’s necklace and he holds on as tightly as he can to everything. There’s more he wants to say and he can’t just _leave_ even if Dean wants him to. But his objections catch in his throat.

There’s more than just the rain on Dean’s cheeks. The red rimmed eyes hold more pain that Castiel ever wanted to see in on his face. It holds everything Dean isn’t saying and it hurts him to almost as much as the words Dean _did_ say. Dean closes his eyes, squeezes them shut, and in the small movement Castiel see a thousand apologies.

It’s the last he sees of Dean.

Castiel catches a brief glimpse of Jess and Sam, standing huddled together from the rain. Bobby is next to Ellen and she has her arm around Jo. And then it’s nothing but the sky and the sea above him when it should be below him. Dean shoves his tail after him and Castiel’s arm jerks painfully before he’s completely over the edge of the wall and he hits the water hard enough that his fans ache where they’re caught by it.

He twists and shakes himself out, turning upright as quickly as he can. The hum of the helicopter blades startles him and Castiel darts far enough out of the way that he won’t get hit by them. Something else hits the water a few tail lengths away from him and it starts sinking within moments. Without thinking Castiel dives after it, cradling the plastic bag and its hard contents to his chest.

The boat is moving away so quickly. He’s been further from it than he is now but it feels like the whole ocean lays between them. His head is filled with Sam and Jess’s apologies, their regrets and their anger. It’s through Sam’s eyes that Castiel sees Dean crouch on the deck and press his forehead to the wall. It’s through Jess he hears the choked, aborted sobs Dean makes. He barely thinks before following the boat.

 _(We don’t want it to end like this, but –)_ Sam is hesitant and Castiel shakes his head as if that would be enough to keep Sam from saying it. _(This is already so hard on you both, please don’t make it worse. I’m so sorry, Castiel. This is – we never wanted this – We’re so sorry.)_

Jess is only more of the same and Castiel’s vision blurs as he slows to a stop. The tears don’t stop and the ache in his chest doesn’t go away even after he’s given his goodbyes and filled the links with his gratitude. He presses a hand to his mouth to stifle his sobs and he hunches over, not bothering to keep himself from sinking as he watches the boat gets too far for him to see it. Eventually it’s he’s muffled cries that he hears around him, the sound of the boat long faded and the kin-connection snapped by distance. He’s well and truly alone now.

He’s never going to see Dean again.

Castiel sinks until it is dark enough for his natural glow to return. Even then it is several long minutes before he raises his voice in a song of loss and mourning. It’s a song full of regret and heartbreak and Castiel’s chest feels numb, his throat raw, his eyes burn and he keeps singing until he’s sunk to the rocky bottom. He curls over the bag in his arms and he cries to the deeps the song his father sang once when Castiel was only child. He sings the song to announce the loss of a bond-mate and he follows it with the one for the loss of family and friends.

He sings both songs, over and over until his throat is too raw to continue and he’s run out of tears and it’s nothing but dry sobs that wrack his body. Everything hurts. Every part of him from the top of his head to the end of his tail. His whole body aches and he wishes he’d never met Dean, he wishes he never made the kin-connection with him. He wishes every dark, terrible thing Dean told him never to think and he chokes on the tightness in his throat, coughing painfully around the raw burn from singing for too long.

Hours, days, rotations later, Castiel forces himself to move. He barely uncurls to get the momentum he needs to slide along the sand and rocks until he finds a space big enough for him to curl into, wedging himself under a ledge for some kind of protection. He doesn’t open the bag and look at the hard flat shape within. But he does rub at his eyes and starts in surprise when something trails against his cheek.

Castiel brightens his glow to see what it is and he stares at the string caught in his fingers. His heart lurches in the hollow space filling his chest and Castiel pins the bag to his chest with his tail, letting it go from his other hand so he can touch the horned pendant floating from the string, buoyed with every breath through his gills.

It starts a new wave of tears even though he has no more to cry. He tucks Dean’s necklace to his chest and he keeps crying, the painful gasps that pull at his throat and burn behind his eyes. It continues until he falls asleep, shivering in the waters he never thought could feel so cold. From the conversations after he’d woken up earlier, Castiel can gather that he’d slept well after lunch. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since then, or even how long it’s been since he was thrown over the edge of the boat.

Castiel sleeps, fitfully, until he can no longer stay under the ledge. The contents of the plastic bag are digging into his stomach and the string of Dean’s necklace is looked tightly around his fingers. A broken noise escapes him when he see it again and Castiel tucks the necklace into the bottom of the bag, his knuckles sliding over the back of something too smooth for a moment. He ties the ends together tightly and folds all the loose edges around it.

His whole body feels heavy as he swims up, chirping echoes and ignoring the school of fish that he passes by. The thought of eating does nothing more than make him nauseated and he can’t bring himself to chase anything.

Bright-pearl is well above the horizon when he approaches the surface and Castiel knows in his bones that it’s the next day. There are still grey clouds in steady-blue, gathered in thick clusters, but there are no more waves. No matter which direction he looks in, Castiel doesn’t see the boat. He waits and he waits, watching the direction the boat left in, watching and waiting for it to come back as bright-pearl climbs higher and higher until it’s almost directly above him.

The boat doesn’t come back. Castiel waits the whole afternoon until bright-pearl sinks into the horizon and steady-blue is slowly clearing of the dark clouds. The world goes dark around him. Steady-blue fills with the flickering stars and the waters glow with his natural light. He sinks slowly again and the lower he goes the more reality settles in that they are not coming back. The friends he made, _Dean_ , all of them are gone and he’s never going to see them again.

This time he doesn’t cry. He dives to the deeps again and finds the same ledge. He presses his back into it and hugs his tail to his chest, pinning the bag in between. Castiel wants to look inside, but he can’t bring himself to. Dean’s gift is in there. It’s something Dean made just for him and Castiel doesn’t know what it is but he doesn’t want to see it, not yet.

It’s no different from how he doesn’t want to eat. He should though. If he’s going to make the trip home, which will be twice – if not three or four – times longer than had they gone the whole way by boat. He doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to bring himself to leave this spot. The last time he had seen the boat go away with Dean on it, when he’d made the decision that he never wanted to have that feeling again, he knew that they were going to come back to a specific spot. What if they recorded this spot and it’s where they would come back to find him?

But he knows they’re not coming back. They have to keep Crowley away from the colony. Dean promised he would make sure that Castiel’s colony wouldn’t have to move. He promised that they would be safe and that’s a promise that Castiel knows he would keep – despite how his trust in Dean is broken and it might never be repaired.

When he wakes in the morning, Castiel hardly feels like he’s slept at all. Everything aches – in more than one way – when he uncurls form under the ledge and the waters around him feel too cold. The whole world feels cold to him now. He passes more fish and he ignores them in favour of going to the surface again and waiting. It’s only half the day before he chooses to dive again. This time he waits above the ledge for his light to attract a fish.

The first bite reminds him of how hungry he is and Castiel tucks the bag into his belt over his stomach. It digs in if he bends too far forward, hindering his ability to hunt, but he makes do. He won’t let it out of his sight. After he’s eaten his fill, Castiel doesn’t care what time it is, he goes to sleep and it’s the first night that he has nightmares.

It’s filled with trembling images of red and pain that lances through his bones, following the vertebrae of his spine. A soundless scream and the cracking of bones fills his head and Castiel wakes so sharply he hits his forehead on the ledge. For several pain-filled moments Castiel panics. He swims out from the edge and calls for Dean before he remembers and he stops as the pain migrates from his head to his chest and Castiel hugs the bag tightly until the ache lessens.

Today he doesn’t go to the surface.

Castiel eats a few fish and waits for the sore spot on his forehead to stop beating in time with his pulse. It feels _wrong_ , somehow, to turn to the south and swim. There’s a heavy weight on him. Each roll of his adipose fins and up-down motion of his tail carries him farther from that ledge and farther from Dean. The empty space behind him drags at him, calling him back even though he knows there’s nothing to go back to.

He’s still angry and hurt, but those are just background feelings now to the confusion that fills him. Castiel didn’t want it to be like this. Even when they knew they were going to say goodbye from the very beginning, his departure was never supposed to be so sudden and jarring. And Dean ruined it by making the decision for him. He understands that he doesn’t know what Dean’s world is really like. All he knows is what they shared with him through memories and explanations. He knows that living on the boat would be nothing like living with Dean on land.

Thinking over it all leaves him conflicted. He needs to sort his emotions out before he returns to the colony. If he can’t resolve them, he might be tormented by a future that never was and he doesn’t want that weighing on him. Especially since he’ll be returning to a war and emotions like these could be distracting. He needs to deal with it now, but the thoughts hurt so much he can’t swim nearly as fast as he wants to, or as far as he had hoped to go by the time he feels too tired to continue.

He finds a small cave to claim for the night and curls against the cold. Dean’s necklace is a hard point against his stomach, pressed in by the flat edge of the gift. Sometimes he gets curious enough to want to know what’s inside the plastic bag, but the thought of opening it makes his throat feel tight and he can’t bring himself to do it. It’s something that Dean prepared especially for Castiel and he’s still so _angry_ at Dean, that it feels like looking at it will be forgiving Dean and he just can’t do that. Not right now – maybe not ever.

The night passes slowly. More than once Castiel wakes up and he’s not sure what it is that wakes him. It could be the dreams, too fleeting for him to recall. Or a danger that his instincts warn him of, but all his echoes come back with no threats.

When he feels that it’s morning again, Castiel leaves the small cave. He finds a bed of clams and eats his fill, prying the shells open with the blade of his dagger. The day passes much like the one before it and Castiel finds himself trying to outswim his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt that leaves him tired by the end of the day. His arms ache with having to hold the folded bag to his chest constantly and he would swim faster, smoother, if he could use his hands too.

Before he sleeps that night, Castiel experiments with using the handles of the bag to tie around the belt so it hangs against his back while he swims. That doesn’t work out so well. The bag billows and causes drag that just slows him down. It takes a few tries before he finds that if he squeezes the water out of the bag first and wraps the end around the belt before tying it, then there are no openings to catch in the water. He has to get used to something bumping at the small of his back and the swell of his tail while he swims, but he doesn’t mind as long as his hands are free. It’s safer too, now he can grab his sword or dagger should anything dangerous show up.

Castiel still hugs the bag when he sleeps wedged into the space between too boulders. It’s the safest thing he could find and he was too tired to care. He sleeps until another nightmare wakes him with the ghost of tacky lips against his mouth, the remnants of a pain in his back and the images of bodies in the water dancing behind his eyes. Even though it feels like the dead of night, Castiel swims.

When morning comes he goes to the surface. There are no boats, but many schools of fish and Castiel catches his fill. Some of the breeds are familiar to him and he hopes it means that he’s getting closer to home. From the surface Castiel orients himself. He makes sure that the dark line of land on the horizon is still to his left. There are no signs of land in front of him and Castiel isn’t sure what this means for where the islands are.

It’s another three days and restless nights before he sees his first sign of home and that lightens the heavy darkness sitting in his chest. It’s nothing more than an arrangement of rocks, piled in a certain shape to notify nomadic fin-kin that they’re approaching a colony. The arrangement is repeated in a line, spaced a few tail lengths apart. He should see another boundary marking in half a day and that just means he’s getting closer and closer to home.

What it doesn’t tell him is which direction he’s going to be approaching the colony from. For all he knows, he could be heading straight into where the fang-fin made camp. When he passes the second marker, Castiel stops to eat and sleep. He sleeps curled against one of the markers after not being able to find an appropriate ledge or cave and being too tired to search further.

The silence is deafening and Castiel thinks he might go crazy if he has to be alone in the quiet for much longer.

Every morning, evening and whenever he stops to relieve himself or catch something to eat, Castiel checks the bag. He makes sure there are no holes in it and that it’s still holding tight to his belt. He’s numbed to the pain of losing Dean and the others now. It’s still an ache deep inside him, and he’s sure that it will be a long time – if ever – before it goes away. Every passing day makes it easier to lose himself in his surroundings and the repetitive motion of swimming.

It’s when he stops for the night that the thoughts come back and even with his exhaustion Castiel can’t help thinking about what they’re doing. Are Jess and Sam still mad at Dean? Are they still on Crowley’s boat or did Crowley kick them off once he woke up? Did Meg know Crowley’s plan?

Not knowing what happened to them is something Castiel thinks is going to haunt him for a very long time.

He comes upon the third marker Castiel turns and follows it. No matter the direction it takes him, it should bring him to an area he actually recognizes. Maybe he’ll come upon the hunting grounds, a battle field, or he’ll find the route that leads to shallower waters where the kelp forest is maintained. At the very least, it would take him closer to the light-beds and he’ll have little trouble finding his way home from there.

The whole time he travels, Castiel keeps the kin-connection as wide as it will go. The minds of fish pass in and out of the spread of his senses, but none of them are the complex thoughts or songs of a fin-kin.  It’s another day of swimming before the ground starts to angle upward. Castiel follows the slope and he’s surprised to find himself _happy_ to see the red coral edge of the light-beds springs from the rocks around him.

When he breaches the edge, Castiel stops and looks out at the sandy shallows. The fishing boats are working methodically in the distance and the waters are filled with the dancing colour-arcs reflected from the shine-stones in the sand. None of his memories for this place are happy ones, but Castiel knows he’ll always think fondly of it. The light-beds is the place he first met Sam and Jess.  And if it wasn’t for them, he never would have met Dean.

He might always be angry and hurt, but he doesn’t regret it. No matter what he wished for days ago, he doesn’t regret it.

Sticking close to the coral and keeping a sharp eye out for the boats, Castiel follows along the edge of the light-beds until he finds the nonsense designs he carved into the coral when he was bored the day the humans took him away. Castiel stops and traces the markings and remembers that day, the fear and everything unknown. He remembers Uriel’s worry and Hester’s rage.

Looking out from the coral and down the path he would follow to his home, Castiel is suddenly filled with worry. What if they’re not there anymore and it’s the fang-fin who live in the trench now? What if the grief was too much and one of his siblings was lost in the war? What if – what if – what if. There’s the sharp thrill of anticipation along his spine, the excitement to finally be home and see everything familiar. And it’s only slightly stained by the bitter knowledge that his home doesn’t have Dean in it.

Castiel’s descent into the dark of the deeps is slow. He stops at a patch of seaweed and cuts down the long strands. His hands shake slightly – exhaustion, excitement, he’s not sure _why_ – as he removes the bag from his belt and wraps it tightly in the kelp. When he’s done, it is nothing more than a layered bundle of seaweed. None of the plastic bag can be seen and it’ll be less noticeable for him to carry it.

He’ll have to find something – somewhere – more permanent to keep it.

Holding the bag to his chest tightly, he starts swimming again. When he comes upon the familiar rock formation where he’s often stopped to catch his breath or rest, he realizes that this is actually happening. After a month – and he wonders how long it’s going to be before he stops using the human’s words for things – he’s finally returning home.

He picks up the pace the more familiar the terrain becomes and he comes to a complete stop when the first brush of the song tickles the edges of the kin-connection. His approach is slower now, soaking in the nostalgic songs the elders sing to the youngest in the colony. His favourite cousin, Samandriel, should be having his lessons now. Other songs and thoughts, conversation and just the very essence of _others_ fill in the spaces and Castiel just wants to stop and soak it all in.

It’s been too many days since he last spoke with someone and the silence was getting to be too much. Too have so many voices in his head, when he got so used to having just one or two, it’s overwhelming and relaxing and Castiel feels so comforted just to be _home_. He’s going to be able to curl up and sleep on his own shelf with Balthazar and Gabriel and Anna and all his other siblings within calling range and now he just want to settle into that safety and _sleep_.

Sleep and forget about Dean and the humans and, if he’s lucky, he’ll forget about this whole month.

The light of the trench, lit by the many bodies of the fin-kin swimming in it, brightens in the distance and for the first time since he started his solo journey home, he feels hope. He doesn’t dare approach the colony as if he were simply returning home from a known excursion – especially not after the lectures and punishment he received when he snuck out to find Balthazar all those seasons ago. Even though he glows like them, there are several fish that are dangerous to the young ones and the sick who also glow. The sentries will be keeping their eyes out for anything.

Castiel is so close to the trench that he can smell all the familiar scents of the mines, the metal workers, _everything_. His nose tingles with the precursor to tears and it’s relief, it’s nostalgia, it’s everything he thought he would never have again.

He doesn’t hide his approach. He broadcasts it to the nearest sentries with his glow and his thoughts and for the first time in a month, he hears his own language when they tell him to stop and identify himself before he gets any closer. The surprise and disbelief when he gives his name makes him smile and he doesn’t mind waiting where he is as a messenger is sent into the colony. He curls the end of his tail around the kelp-wrapped package to hold it and leave his hands free. It’ll hobble his swimming, but he doesn’t need to move right now.

The song that raises in the waters and his mind makes him smile. Surprise and joy radiate with his name as the news spreads quickly through the colony. It’s only a small matter of moments before he’s going to see his family and learn what he’s missed and finally just to be _home_.

Anna is the first to reach him and the moment she sees him, her cry of delight is nearly drowned out with the burst of joy and relief that fills the kin-connection. Castiel notices that her long hair is cut, floating around her side-fans in a short, red halo. He feels a pang of regret for it, knowing how much his sister prided herself on her hair and he would ask what happened to it, but she nearly tackles him. Anna hugs him tight, her face pressed to his shoulder and Castiel can feel her shaking. She wraps him in her tail and fills his head with concern.

 _(Where_ were _you?)_ She pulls away and cups his face, her hands checking him over carefully. _(Are you hurt? Uriel said you told him there were two-tails? Did they take you? Castiel, where have you_ been _? We thought you were_ dead _.)_

He takes Anna’s hands in his own and presses her fingers to his lips. It’s a fond gesture that he hasn’t done for her since he was a child. Her back-fan flares and she falls silent.

 _(I’m happy to see you too, Anna.)_ The smile he gives her is less forced than he thought it would be. _(I want to answer your questions, but I’d prefer not having to repeat it. You’ll get all your answers when I tell the council.)_

Anna narrows her eyes at him and leans in close, her nose almost touching his and her touch probes at his thoughts curiously. _(Something is different about you.)_

 _(There is.)_ It would be surprising if there wasn’t. He has loved and lost now.

Castiel’s memories of the last month stay hidden and buried. He won’t share them with anyone. Instead, he’ll recount the story as truthfully as he can. Almost everything about Dean has to be kept from his family. It’ll be harder to determine how much to tell the council of what he told the humans about fin-kin.  Whatever he tells the council, he’s going to have to be very careful. Whatever he tells them will determine whether or not they colony will have to move. Castiel is positive that “Because Dean is going to keep us a secret.” will not be enough of a reason.

Anna’s calculating stare starts to make him feel uncomfortable, but it softens and she smiles again. _(It’s good to have you home safe, little one.)_

Castiel rolls his eyes at the fond term. He hasn’t been ‘little’ in ages and Anna is the only one who still calls him it. She hugs him again and takes him by the hand to start pulling him toward the lip of the trench. The colony-kin gathered around them are pulsing curiosity and talking rapidly between themselves, discussing what happened to him and why he’s suddenly home.

The song to welcome him home still echoes through the deeps and Castiel can’t help but look around excitedly for his brothers. Anna drags him down toward his sleep-shelf and Castiel breaks away from her, swimming ahead despite the package still held tightly in his tail. True to form, his shelf is covered in shine-stones and shells. He drags his touch over them gently, not disturbing the display and it secures the idea that his family truly did think him dead.

He turns to Anna, tears stinging in his eyes. _(I’m so sorry, Anna. I never meant for –)_

She shushes him and pushes a hand through his hair. _(You’re home now. That’s all that matters.)_ Anna gestures for someone, a soldier swimming with a limp because half his tail is bound in kelp. She orders him to find others to help him clean off the shelf while the council is in session. The soldier looks disappointed, but he knows the news will be shared throughout the colony within moments of Castiel telling it to the council.

 _(Gabriel will be with Metatron and Raphael.)_ Anna explains, tugging at Castiel’s hand to make him follow her. _(He wasn’t happy about having to stay behind when Lucifer and Michael left with–)_

 _(Please, just a moment.)_ Castiel pulls away from her and slips over his shelf to the very back where a large rock sits in a corner he dug out. He pulls the rock from the wall to reveal a hollow space. There are a few stones with weird shapes or designs, a shine-stone he’d found in a perfect oval, and a few things he’d made with fish bones.

Anna’s curiosity pulses against his mind as he curls his tail forward to take the package and hide it inside the hole he spent quite some time scraping out of the cliff wall. Most fin-kin have spaces like this on their sleep-shelves to place precious things. It’s law not to touch anything there on a shelf that doesn’t belong to you. Once the rock is back in place, he turns to follow her.

_(Thank you for waiting. Please, continue.)_

She gives him another calculating look. _(They left with Lucifer’s garrison, supposedly to be meeting with the Fang-fin leaders for negotiations. Knowing the Fang-fin, half of their discussions will be fighting. We’ve already sent a messenger to let them know that you’re home and they should be back before the end of the day. Inias is one of my fastest swimmers.)_

Castiel is relieved to hear that all his brothers are okay, but his stomach knots with worry over the one name she hasn’t mentioned yet. _(What about Balthazar?)_

 _(He took over your garrison when Uriel fell a rotation and a half ago. They’re out too while mine is here to guard.)_ She pauses and flips onto her back to swim backward. _(I’m sorry about Uriel. He didn’t want to take your place, but he did a good job when he accepted it. He fell a hero, saving one of Lucifer’s contingency parties.)_

Uriel was a friend and it’s a hard blow to know that he’s gone. _(Shouldn’t Hester have been next in line to lead? Why did Balthazar –)_

 _(She was wounded in the same battle that took Uriel and with the healers now.)_ Anna shakes her head and Castiel winces at the image she provides of Hester’s wounds. Half her back-fan is missing and the scratches to her back are deep. _(Balthazar took over on Rachel’s suggestion. His scouting party joined the ranks of your garrison but still operate separately like they used to.)_

She continues to explain as they swim to the end of the trench where it becomes a natural auditorium where the colony can sit and listen to meetings if they want to. The cavern where the elders teach the young ones is near to it and they’re gathered at the edge of the cave, watching as Castiel and what has to be the rest of the colony follows behind him.

It’s not that hard for him to focus on what she’s explains. He’s not sure what it’s going to be like to actually get back to fighting – if he’ll be allowed – but just discussing the war makes it feel like he was never gone. Everything that happened on the boat feels like it was seasons instead of just days ago.

But the ache in his chest continues to pulse painfully. It’s calling for the warmth that Dean used to feed it; a chasm through the core of him that craves that warmth like his skin craves the warmth of his body. It sours the joy he feels when Gabriel leaves his seating stone, breaking protocol, to knock Castiel head over fins in a strong hug that is at odds with his diminutive size.

Wanting that and knowing he’ll never have it again; wanting it and knowing the words Dean said and the things he did – it eats away at his concentration and his happiness to be home.

 


	38. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer and Gabriel make the same transition and it’s almost terrifying to watch the emotion slide from their faces and draw away from the kin-connection. Castiel readies himself. It’s going to be hard to talk about everything. He doesn’t want to talk about Dean, he doesn’t want to talk about anything. But it’s very much needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: floralstiel, idonotbelieveinreality, pipkinxchaos, killingyourlife, gahyouresoawesome, ssteidi, kairron, days-of-dust, livx18, caslikesbutts, thelittlearchangelthatcould, dahoddlyweirdalexe, paperhalos
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

Gabriel leads Castiel to the center of the auditorium where there is a large stone resting in the center. Castiel sits on it, curling his tail around one side to keep himself in place. Anna forces him to move over so she can sit too and stays beside him. She refuses to leave his side and Gabriel doesn’t ask her to. He knows better than to try to make her do anything she doesn’t want to.

 _(It’s good to have you home, little bro.)_ Gabriel circles around them, flicking Castiel’s back fans with the end of his tail every time he passes. He never was one to hold still. _(We’ll have to wait for Lucifer and Michael to come back before we’ll start the – yeah, sorry, I can’t exactly sweet coat it. it’s going to be nothing short of an interrogation.)_

Castiel shakes his head and _this_ particular smile is forced. _(I understand. I’ve been absent for a month and there is much to discuss.)_

Surprise sparks through his mind from both Anna and Gabriel. His brother comes to a sharp stop in front of him. They’re the only two he’s directing his thoughts to at the moment, although the kin-connection is open wide enough for him to hear the voices of everyone currently settling along the stages that line the auditorium walls. The clamor of voices is almost too loud after the silence from almost a week’s worth of swimming.

His siblings share a quick look before Gabriel leans in closer. _(What’s a ‘month’, Castiel?)_

He realizes his error and despite how much of his mind is hidden right now, Castiel really can’t pretend he didn’t just use a _human_ word. There’s nothing he can do but be honest. _(It’s a period of thirty or thirty-one days.)_

 _(Where did you learn it?)_ Anna touches his hand and, for the first time, Castiel notices just how _cold_ her fingers feel against his skin.

Humans may have fluctuated in body heat, but they were always much warmer than him. Something twists in his chest and he pulls his hand away to erase the reminder that he’s never going to feel that heat – _Dean’s_ heat – again. The closest he’s ever going to get is to swim closer to the volcanic vent at the base of the trench. But it won’t be the same.

Castiel looks down at his hands, fingers folded together in his lap and he rubs his thumb against the webbing between two fingers. _(While I was away.)_

Their concern presses at him and he shakes his head. _(I will explain when the others are back.)_

 _(I’m on the council, y’know.)_ Gabriel pokes him in the forehead with a knuckle and Castiel frowns at him. _(I could just_ order _you to tell me everything before they get here.)_

He rubs at his forehead and glares at Gabriel. _(Then just do it.)_ Castiel has been swimming for days and he’s both emotionally and physically drained. He’s feeling too many things at once – anger, confusion, hurt, _longing_ – and he just doesn’t _care_ anymore. He won’t tell the colony about Dean, but there are definitely going to be things he has to tell them and he doesn’t want to have to relive those memories more than once. Especially since he plans to never think about them again.

Gabriel looks to Anna again and Castiel doesn’t even need to hear their thoughts to know the doubt passing between them. He’s always been the obedient little brother. He would always listen to his siblings and do as he’s told and all of that seems so _pointless_ now. Castiel sighs and uncurls from around the rock only to twist and re-settle on his stomach, arms crossed under his head.

 _(Are you tired, little one?)_ Anna’s hand touches his hair again and he leans into her hip to take as much comfort from it as he can, even if her scales are cold against his shoulder.

Castiel hums as she starts to slide her fingers against his scalp. He is tired and his chest hurts. He misses Sam and Jess, he even misses Bobby. Most of all, even though there’s a pang of anger and pain in the numb space behind his sternum, he misses Dean. He’s been missing Dean for days and he doesn’t know when it’s going to stop. But he wants it to _go away_.

 _(They won’t be back for hours. You can sleep if you’d like.)_ Anna offers and Gabriel huffs, pulsing annoyance into the kin-connection.

There’s a telltale silence that Castiel finds he missed. He knows that Gabriel and Anna are talking between themselves. It’s very different from having someone just not translate their whispers. Castiel falls asleep to the silence, to the background voices of the colony, and to the song that sings his return through the deeps.

It’s the sharp tug to his hip that wakes him. For a brief moment, Castiel thinks he’s sleeping in a cave or out in the open again and he lashes out at the threat. He whips his tail and hisses, hand going to the hilt of his sword. He stops at the familiar orange glow of his oldest brother and Michael grabs his wrist before he can pull his sword free.

 _(Calm yourself, Castiel.)_ Michael covers his thoughts in calm as he pulls him into a tight hug. _(It’s good to see you again, little brother.)_

He leans into the hug. Lucifer is there next to him and it’s hug after hug, Gabriel and Anna taking turns again. Balthazar is last. He’s all tearful smiles as he presses his face to Castiel’s shoulder and curls around him tightly. _(I thought we’d lost you, Cassie.)_

That nickname has a new meaning for him and Castiel tenses. He doesn’t like it anymore, not when it reminds him of the person who left Dean of her own volition and _he_ is not _her_. If Dean hadn’t forced this decision on him, Castiel never would have left him. He would have stayed with Dean no matter what and now – now he’s here. Castiel didn’tleave Dean. He _didn’t_. And he’s not sure if he likes being called ‘Cassie’ anymore.

It’s while he’s hugging Balthazar that Anna catches his hand. _(What happened to your claws?)_

 _(And what is this?)_ The tug comes at his hip again and Castiel looks down to where Lucifer is pulling at the belt still cinched tightly around his waist. _(What is it made of?)_

He takes his hand back. _(They were cut. And it’s a belt. I don’t know what it’s made of.)_

 _(I can see that.)_ Lucifer tugs again. _(Where did you get it?)_

Castiel pushes his hands away and circles around Balthazar to place him between them. _(From the one who helped me escape.)_

 _(Escape?)_ Anna touches his shoulder and then his hip, fingers gentle when they touch at the places in the webbing of his adipose fins where Alistair cut pieces of him away. _(Is that how these happened?)_

Michael sends a sharp pulse into the kin-connection to catch everyone’s attention. All eyes turn to him and even though his eyes are soft, his expression is hard. The ceremonial scarring over his eyebrows pull when he frowns. Castiel can almost see him change from loving brother to colony leader. Even after being away from it for quite a few rotations, it’s still chilling to see.

_(I think it’s time you tell us what happened.)_

Lucifer and Gabriel make the same transition and it’s almost terrifying to watch the emotion slide from their faces as they draw away from the kin-connection. Castiel readies himself. It’s going to be hard to talk about everything. He especially doesn’t want to talk about Dean, he doesn’t want to talk about anything. But it’s very much needed.

Balthazar and Anna aren’t allowed to sit on the stone with him during the trail, but they settle on the floor on either side. Castiel keeps his back straight and folds his hands in his lap. In front of him are five pillars. The center stands taller than the others and Michael sits there. Metatron and Raphael sit on either side of him, heads level with his shoulders. Gabriel and Lucifer make up either end, their heads level with the others’ shoulders, although Gabriel does sit shorter than Lucifer and he tries to make up for it by sitting more on his tail than he is the stone.

The trail starts with Michael making a formal announcement to the colony about what happened prior to Castiel’s disappearance and what they’re about to hear. When the auditorium falls silent, Castiel takes a deep breath and starts his story.

He starts with seeing Sam and Jess at the light-beds and the weapon-stick that they had. He ignores everyone’s surprise when he explains waking in a glass cage and the all encompassing silence in his head. When he talks about making the kin-connection with Dean, he expects the shock and horror that he receives. Castiel omits everything concerning his relationship with Dean. It’s not a lie and no one notices or asks him about it. He doesn’t give a single name, referring to them only by what he had first called them; tall-one, braided-one, green-eyes. That is all that the colony needs to know. Just like how, by the ends his story, as far as his colony knows he and green-eyes were nothing more than friends and that the two-tails know next to nothing about the colony.

His story ends with his escape from Lilith’s boat. No one needs to know what happened afterwards and it’s not something that he wants to relive anytime soon. Everything that happened on Crowley’s boat is best to be forgotten. Balthazar touches the end of his tail and Castiel twists it out from under his hand. He doesn’t want to be touched right now, not when his memories are so fresh again and they sting.

Castiel wants Michael to dismiss him to his sleep-shelf while the council discusses what should happen. They’ll take suggestions from the rest of the colony, and hear their worries before they make their decisions. He doesn’t know if the colony will move, or if he’ll be banished, or if he’ll be put to death. There is no way of knowing until someone comes to get him. But he’s still tired and if he could sleep some more, he’d rather do that than sit here and listen to their deliberations.

Sleeping is all that he wants to do now. Sleep and forget the world, forget Dean, and just _sleep._ But at the same time he doesn’t want to forget Dean. He never wants to forget him, but thinking about Dean makes Castiel _hurt_ in so many ways.

When the dismissal comes, Castiel feels nothing but relief. Anna and Balthazar are assigned – volunteer – to escort him back to his sleep-shelf and true to form, they stay to guard him. For the first time in too long, Castiel gets to settle into the groove he carved out himself as a youngling. He tucks the belt and his weapons against the very back of the shelf, in the crevice between the wall and the rock that is hiding his treasures from the colony.

Balthazar’s thoughts push at him gently and they carry a sense of secrecy. It’s the only hint Castiel has that this conversation is private and he sections those thoughts away from the slack link he holds with Anna and the rest of the colony.

_(There’s more, isn’t there? What else aren’t you telling us, Cassie?)_

_(There’s nothing.)_ He flinches from that name again and hugs his tail to his chest with one arm, the other tucked between it so he can press a hand over his heart – as if that will make the pain he feels there go away. _(Please, don’t call me that anymore.)_

There’s a flash of surprise and hurt and Castiel feels the water shift as Balthazar slides onto the shelf behind him. He wants to curl up next to his brother and take what little comfort he can from it, but Balthazar is so _cold_. Everything is so cold and it’s like Castiel is never going to feel warm again. He can barely stand it. He should be happy to be home – and he is– but he’s not _happy_.

He’s scared he might never be again.

Balthazar and Anna settle on the shelf together, laying over and around Castiel like they haven’t done since they were all hatchlings; since before they reached the age they moved to their own sleep shelves. Anna starts to sing a lullaby and Castiel almost wants to cut the kin-connection and cover his side-fans when Balthazar joins in. It’s the same lullaby he sang for Dean.

There are too many memories associated to him now and Castiel wonders if there will ever come a day that something _won’t_ remind him of Dean.

Castiel falls asleep under their weight and their song, and he doesn’t know for how long he sleeps. His dreams are full of being trapped in a box as fire burns beyond the glass. His head is full of screaming and the snap of bones and he feels so helpless, there’s nothing he can do to stop from being thrown over the edge again and again and again – and he’s so _alone_.

He wakes so violently that Anna and Balthazar actually get thrown from him. Castiel struggles to breathe as their worry fills his head. Neither one of them say anything about it and, for that, Castiel is grateful. He leans against the back of his shelf to center himself again and wonders, briefly, how much – if any – of his nightmare had slipped into the kin-connection.

 _(Are you hungry? I could go get you something to eat. Sweet snails? Squid? Cuttle-fish? Sea-giant? We don’t have much left in storage, but I’m sure I could sneak you a piece.)_ Anna’s offer comes cautiously and she crosses her arms on the edge of his sleep-shelf. _(The council is still in session and they don’t seem to be coming out any time soon. But the rest of the colony was dismissed and there are several people excited to see you.)_

Castiel rests his forehead on the bend of his tail. He is hungry, so he wouldn’t mind something to eat. But the thought of talking to anyone seems like such a _chore_. It’s something that he’s been craving for so long and now that he has the chance, he just really doesn’t want to answer a million questions about what it was like or how it felt or anything.

He barely looks up from his tail and Anna has her head tilted at him curiously. _(I want cuttle-fish.)_ It’s been so long since he had any. They’re one of his favourites and Castiel doesn’t really care that he sounds childish asking for it.

Anna just smiles at him, radiating with understanding. The moment she’s gone to catch him something to eat, Balthazar sits heavily in front of Castiel  and leans forward on his hands.

_(Out with it.)_

_(Balthazar –)_

He leans in closer, his glow getting threateningly bright. _(You’re not telling us everything. But what I would really like to know is why I’m not allowed to be calling you something I’ve been calling you your entire life.)_

_(I can’t – )_

_(Why are you hiding stuff from me?)_

Castiel presses his face back against his scales. _(Please, Balthazar, not now.)_

Balthazar huffs, frustrated displeasure curling around his words. He moves to sit next to Castiel, close enough that he is practically leaning against him. Castiel doesn’t flinch when his arm lays over his shoulders, pressing his back-fans flat. It’s a heavy, cold weight laying against the back of his neck and Castiel fights the urge to shrug Balthazar’s arm away.

 _(I know that you went through something tough, but you know you can talk to me about anything right?_ Anything _, Cassie.)_

_(Don’t call me that.)_

_(Why not?)_ Balthazar asks and Castiel shrugs. His arm stays where it is. If anything, he pulls Castiel to his side even tighter. _(Don’t do this. Don’t close yourself from the rest of us. You just came back and we’re so happy to have you home, Cassie.)_

Castiel’s side-fans flare and he looks up to glare at his brother, teeth bared around a hiss. _(I am_ not _her. I didn’t_ choose _to leave. Do_ not _call me by_ her _name.)_

Balthazar recoils from the venom in the thoughts and his surprise is nearly enough to cool Castiel’s surge of anger. He draws away and curls forward on the sleep-shelf to sit in front of him again. _(Now_ that _is interesting. You didn’t choose to leave? Wouldn’t you have wanted to leave on principle?)_

He tucks his face against his scales again. _(I don’t want to talk about it.)_

 _(Castiel.)_ Balthazar takes him by his shoulders and pushes him back against the rock. _(Why don’t you want to talk about it? You know me, I’m not going to let this go.)_

_(I wish that you would.)_

_(You’ve been missing for over five rotations. I was worried out of my mind and thought you were_ dead _. I have been mourning you since the day Metatron decided you were lost for good and we were to stop searching for you. Now you’re back and you’re keeping secrets from me – from everyone.)_ He leans in until their noses are almost touching. _(So no, brother dear, I am not leaving this alone.)_

Castiel uncurls sharply, pushing Balthazar away with his tail. He hisses again and fills the kin-connection with all the anger, hate and confusion, the longing and the _pain_. It sends Balthazar reeling, clutching his head and hissing as he falls over the edge of the sleep-shelf. He doesn’t rise back up for a few moments after Castiel seals his emotions from the link.

 _(What in the ever loving mother was_ that _?)_ Balthazar peeks over the edge of the ledge before he kicks back up onto the ledge.

 _(That is why I don’t want to talk about it.)_ He looks away, fidgeting with the buckle of the belt. _(I just want to forget it. Most of it.)_

Balthazar makes a frustrated noise and runs a hand through his hair. _(Are – Castiel – are you missing the two-tails who helped you escape? I don’t understand.)_

Castiel sighs and curls his tail underneath him again, leaning his shoulder into the wall. _(I made friends with them. I wouldn’t be – if it wasn’t for them I may not have survived, and I most certainly would never have made it home.)_ He starts tracing the edge of his sword. _(We didn’t part under the best of terms and I – I’m happy to be home, but I miss them.)_

 _(You’re home now. Being home is going to feel as natural as swimming and you’ll forget them soon enough.)_ Balthazar pulls Castiel from the wall and into a hug, offering all sorts of comfort through the kin-connection. _(It’s nice that they helped you, but you don’t need to think about it anymore. Once the council has made their ruling, you’ll be able to settle back into life like you never left. Your garrison will be so happy to have you command them again and the war will help to distract you.)_

Sagging into the hug feels like second nature and Castiel wants to take comfort in it despite how cold Balthazar feels. He doesn’t know what to say. There’s so much he could, and he almost wants to tell him about Dean, about everything. He wants to, but he can’t. He might never be able to. Dean will have to be the biggest secret he keeps from his entire family and his closest friends.

They stay like that until Anna returns with something to eat for all of them. With his belly as full of his head, it doesn’t take long for Castiel to fall asleep again. He knows his siblings are worried with how much he’s sleeping, but after so much swimming and so many emotions, sleeping is the only way to get away from it all.

At least this time there are no dreams between when he falls asleep with his head in Anna’s lap and when she wakes him with sharp shakes to his shoulder. Gabriel is sitting on the edge of his shelf, sucking lazily at the shell of a sweet snail and watching him closely. Castiel rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up, glow brightening sharply.

_(Has the council come to a decision?)_

_(Would I be here if we hadn’t?)_ Gabriel spits the shell into the void beyond his shelf and gets another snail from the woven kelp bag he carries on his belt.

Anna slaps him with her tail. _(Well, what is it?)_

He pushes Anna away and swims out into the trench. _(We’re adjourning so we can get some rest and we’ll meet again in the morning. Michael and Lucifer are on their way. I slipped away early to warn you that Raphael thinks your hiding something and as your siblings we’ve been assigned to find out what. If you’re lucky, they’re only coming to check on you before going to sleep and not – you know – to hold your fins over a vent until you tell the truth.)_

That feels far more foreboding that Gabriel probably meant it to be.

Day and night mean little in the colony. They’re not governed by the rise and fall of the bright-pearl. The colony sleeps in shifts and even though they can more or less tell if bright-pearl is up or down, it doesn’t determine what they do. Castiel has to adjust to not thinking about whether or not it’s nighttime or daytime now. It doesn’t matter, but it does feel slightly weird not to think like that anymore.

 _(I’m going to get some sleep.)_ Gabriel swims a loop overhead, twisting to touch the top of Castiel’s head. _(Don’t worry, baby bro. Everything’s going to be fine. It’s good to have you back!)_

Castiel returns the thought and he swims out from his shelf to stretch his muscles as Gabriel swims up toward his own shelf. Anna sends Balthazar to get them something to eat this time and she doesn’t let Castiel swim out of her sight. He’s still getting some exercise – swimming simple loops that remind him too much of what he did when he was trapped in small-sea – when Michael and Lucifer return. Thankfully, Raphael isn’t with them. He’s far more rigid and brusque than Castiel cares to deal with.

To his surprise, neither of them ask him about anything concerning what he thinks everyone is going to simply refer to as his ‘time away’. It’s a few hugs and reminders that he needs to stay at his shelf until the council comes to a decision. They both promise to speak to him more once the decision has been made and Castiel is once again left with just Anna.

He has only just sat back down on his shelf when she slides in next to him and her curiosity is almost tangible in the water. _(I’ve been dying to know – what was the bundle you brought back? Is it a souvenir?)_

_(Why would I want a keepsake of a time when I was imprisoned and tortured?)_

_(No, not something about long-white or smug-face. I’m talking about a memento of the two-tails you made friends with.)_ She laughs and nudges him with her shoulder. _(You know, green-eyes and tall-one? Or did you take a piece of the wreckage as the floating-reef sank?)_

Castiel shakes his head and smoothes his hands over his scales. _(I don’t know what it is.)_

_(How do you not know what it is?)_

He shrugs and pushes out away from her and the shelf again. _(Please, Anna, forget it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.)_

She follows, swimming circles around him until she’s in front of him. _(That doesn’t make sense. Don’t tell me that you haven’t looked inside.)_

 _(Stop it.)_ He hisses, twisting away to turn back to his shelf. _(I already said that I don’t want to talk about it. So leave it be! Why won’t any of you listen when I say that?)_

Castiel fills the kin-connection with all the same emotions that he did with Balthazar. She flinches and he leaves her floating in the void of the trench, returning to his shelf as Balthazar comes back with a woven basket full of clams and several fish. He closes the kin-connection and eats in silence. Balthazar and Anna keep sharing looks and he knows that they are talking about him but he can’t bring himself to care.

It takes the council two days to come to their decision. For two days Castiel is confined to his sleep-shelf. He leaves it only to stretch his tail under the watchful eye of his siblings, or to be escorted to the rock field to relieve himself. The time passes so slowly. It’s boring and Castiel spends half of it sleeping. The other half is taking visitors.

Everyone learns within moments of speaking to him that they shouldn’t ask about what happened or how he’s feeling. As soon as anyone mentions it, he shuts down – at first. The fourth time it happens, when a member of his garrison asks about what it was like to be friends with a two-tails – Castiel reacts with anger. He’s been too wrapped in his thoughts and memories, with nothing else to think about between visitors and when he’s trying to fall asleep. Castiel is still confused, still hurt. But that numb feeling in his chest is filled with red, filled with the burn of _anger_ at everyone and everything for taking away all that happiness that he had before.

It takes both Anna and Balthazar to hold him down and it scares away everyone else from visiting for the rest of that day.

Whenever his other brothers visit, they never mention what is happening with the council. They don’t even mention Castiel’s time away. All they speak of is what Castiel has missed and what he’s going to have to do if the council decides to let him stay.

The summons to the council is a huge relief for everyone. Castiel doesn’t bother hiding that emotion from his siblings and they don’t hide it from him. He’s thankful that they took it upon themselves to be his guards when any member of the colony could have done it, and he knows that they’ve been as annoyed with having to stay at his sleep-shelf as much as he has. It’s not like Castiel has been the best of company either. Being so bored means that he’s had too much time to think and thinking is the last thing that he wants to do.

This gathering is just like a few days prior. What few members of the colony that aren’t away defending their borders are gathered on the stages around the auditorium. Balthazar and Anna wait beside him as the council takes their places on their columns. The kin-connection goes quiet as everyone stops talking when Michael pulses warning to get their attention.

Metatron swims out ahead of the others, his large stomach making his swim lopsided and slow. He repeats what they had been discussing over the last few days. He mentions that Castiel was in the company of two-tails for many rotations and that he had developed a friendship with some of them. He mentions everything that Castiel said and Castiel has to force himself not to reaction – no fan flaring or fin rippling – when Metatron doesn’t mention anything about just how _close_ Castiel had gotten with one of the two-tails.

Gabriel is all grins around the empty shell he’s sucking on and his glow patterns fluctuates from dim to bright more than once. This can only mean good things. Sure enough, Lucifer tells the colony that Castiel kept their secrets and their safety. Anything he told the two-tails was only what they would have learned if they’d studied his body more invasively. He never put the colony itself at risk and he took all the right precautions to make sure that no two-tails would follow him back.

Raphael announces that Castiel is granted full freedom within the colony again. Once the healers have confirmed him fit for duty both physically and mentally, then he will take command of his garrison and return to combat alongside his brothers. Gabriel cheers with the rest of the colony and Castiel sags with relief. Both Anna and Gabriel hug him tightly while Michael tells him the schedule.

By the end of the next rotation, the healers have declared Castiel physically fit. Aside from his shortened claws – already starting to be sharpened into points – and the missing pieces of his adipose fins, Castiel is perfectly healthy. It’s like a physical blow for him to realize that all the marks Dean left on him have already long healed and he carries nothing more than his memories and the items hidden away behind the rock on his sleep-shelf.  

The healers don’t find anything wrong with him mentally. Although there are a few things that they find slightly concerning. Things such as Castiel’s mood swings – none of which have been violent or affect his decision making during any and all tests that they put him through – and his nightmares.

The nightmares happen every few days, and only half of them are violent and filled with pain or fire and blood. The rest are all a pain of a different kind. It’s the kind of pain that has Castiel waking with tears stinging his eyes and the overwhelming sense of _alone_ , the awareness of the empty space next to him and the cold. He’s always cold now. Even when he sneaks onto Balthazar’s or Anna’s sleep-shelf to curl against them – or on the odd occasion, both of them _and_ Gabriel – he can’t get warm.

Balthazar questions him once when Castiel keeps swimming down to the nesting shelves where the water is heated by the vent. He doesn’t understand what Castiel means when he says he can’t get warm and Balthazar leaves it alone after that. Even being closer to the volcanic vent doesn’t warm him. He’s cold _inside_ and that’s the most damaging.

Going to war both does and does not help.

It does a decent enough job of distracting him, but swimming circles around fang-fin and slicing through their rigid fins with sword and claw and teeth is fleeting. A battle calm sets and the adrenaline works – but once that wears off he’s still stuck with his memories.

Some nights he doesn’t have nightmares. Some nights his dreams are shadowed touches and feather light kisses. They’re of a warmth that burns him from the inside out and a physical connection he’s never had before – never will have again. He wakes as breathless as he does with the nightmares. If the scent of his release isn’t in the water, then the muscles of his sheath are twitching hard enough to hurt.

He ignores it until the twitching goes away.

Sometimes he catches himself humming or singing Ramble On. It becomes a calming mantra, something that focuses him when he feels overwhelmed with all the emotions. The ones that gets him the worst is the anger and the hurt. He’s so angry at Dean for pushing him away. He’s happy to be home, he’s happy to be with his friends and his family, but he’s still upset.

It takes more than a season before Castiel stops feeling so angry. But he still hasn’t forgiven Dean for forcing him to go home when they could have talked, they could have figured out something. Somehow. They didn’t have to part like _that_.

By the time the anger slips away, the war has been going on for quite a few seasons and the fighting is isolated to the negotiations between Michael and the fang-fin leaders. He counts himself lucky that none of his siblings died, although Anna now bears a set of scars down the length of her tail and Castiel has one on his hip. It was a dark day when he realized it wasn’t going to heal completely, that it would leave him with an arch of knotted skin in a spot that mirrors the one that Dean had.

He had spent that day curled in one of the shelters built by the kelp forest with his fingers curled over the scar and the sting of unshed tears behind his eyes. There had been no energy to do anything that day or for several after it. Castiel beats it by carving a crude representation of Dean’s tattoo into the rock next to his sleep-groove. It’s surprisingly m ore comfort than he thought it would be, and he sleeps most nights with his hand over the mark.

Castiel misses Dean. He misses feeling full through the kin-connection, and the sound of Dean’s voice and the touch of his hand. He misses hearing Dean laugh and the soft sounds of his sleeping. He misses Dean’s music and his constant, complicated stream of thoughts – always worrying about Sam, or thinking about his car, or working out how to fix a problem. Dean was always thinking, even if he was hiding it behind walls.

He misses Sam and Jess, their concern and their love for Dean. And Castiel never stops missing them. A day does come where he doesn’t think of them, and he thinks about them less and less. But not once does he stop missing them.

It’s on sentry duty, two seasons after his return home, that Castiel leaves his position to sit next to Balthazar on adjacent rocks along the lip of the trench. They’ve done this a thousand times before and Castiel is content – if slightly annoyed – to listen to Balthazar talk about the females he’s been with lately. Another mating season is coming upon them shortly and Balthazar has been musing about whether or not he’s going to participate this year to father a nest.

 _(Has Anna told you what Rachel’s been chatting away about?)_ Balthazar uncurls his tail from under him and knocks it against Castiel’s shoulder to make sure he’s still paying attention.

Castiel doesn’t turn away from looking out into the darkness. His echoes come back with nothing more than the usual sea creatures and no threats. Castiel doesn’t dignify the question with an answer. No matter what he says, Balthazar will still talk about it and he’ll learn one way or another. Balthazar continues talking as if he had responded.

_(Rachel wants a nest this season.)_

He barely resists rolling his eyes. _(That’s nice.)_ All the females usually say that at least once when the mating season comes around. Barely any of the younger ones ever actually do it and they end up wait a few mating seasons until they’re older.

_(And she has her eye on a strong soldier.)_

_(Good. She deserves a strong nest-mate to help raise the hatchlings.)_

Balthazar leans in closer, picking under his claws with the tip of his sword. _(She said that he’s smart and resourceful and proven himself quite the capable nest-mate.)_

 _(He sounds like a good match for her.)_ Castiel turns away, chirping his echoes again. If his brother won’t do his job, then he will.

Balthazar makes a frustrated noise and hits him with his tail again, knocking Castiel from the rock. _(Rachel was talking about you, you great idiot.)_

He rolls away to sit somewhere else. _(I’m flattered, but I’m not interested. I’ll let her know after we’re done our shift.)_

 _(Cas.)_ It’s the one nickname Castiel has allowed since his return. _(Cas, my very special little brother, listen to me.)_ Balthazar follows him over to the new rock and practically sits in his lap to get his attention, hands on his shoulders and nearly shaking Castiel. _(I will_ not _let this happen. You are not going to get another season older and still be a virgin. I will not let you do that to yourself. If you don’t mate this season, I will get Gabriel in on this and do you want that? Do you_ really _want that?)_

No, he really doesn’t want that. Gabriel would… Castiel can’t even fathom what Gabriel would do. At least he probably wouldn’t try and set him up with females like Anna would. He sighs and pushes Balthazar’s hands away. _(I’m not a virgin.)_

Those four little words shock Balthazar into a silence that lasts long enough for Castiel to swim away back to his own post. Castiel sits in his specified location for several minutes, actually counting the seconds, before Balthazar tackles him. He’s radiating excitement and curiosity and his thoughts are coming in bright streaks through the kin-connection, sending it rippling with question after question after question.

 _(How could you_ not _tell me? I’m wounded, Cas,_ wounded! _)_ Balthazar does shake him this time. _(Tell me all about it! Who is she? When did it happen? What was it like? Why didn’t you tell me? Who knows?)_

Castiel twists out of his fingers again. He can’t think of a good way to omit that it was with a male, let alone a two-tails. He thinks he’s finally ready to talk about what happened with Dean specifically, but he can’t really do it. The repercussions are… he doesn’t even know, but he can answer what questions wouldn’t jeopardize his position in the colony.

 _(You’re the first I’ve told. And I have no words to describe what it was like.)_ Castiel flexes his tail between them to keep Balthazar from shaking him again. _(I didn’t tell anyone because it’s none of their business. Just because you have no filter for your thoughts doesn’t mean I don’t.)_

Balthazar flits around the tail-barrier Castiel keeps between them, trying to get near. _(But_ me _, Cas? Why would you hide it from_ me _? And you didn’t tell me who she is? Is it Hester? Ambriel? Camael? Israfil?)_

_(No, it wasn’t any of them.)_

That was, apparently, not the best answer to give. Castiel has to sit through Balthazar listing every available female in the colony. When he has no reaction to any of the names, he gets the most scathing look his brother has ever given him. Balthazar leans over Castiel’s tail. _(Don’t tell me you mated with a shelf-mate or a bond-mate.)_

_(I didn’t.)_

_(You’re not lying…)_ Balthazar sits back on the curl of his tail, arms crossed over his chest.

_(Of course I’m not.)_

His confusion vibrates through the kin-connection before it clears up in a bright shock of surprise. _(A fang-fin, Cas? You_ didn’t _.)_

_(I didn’t.)_

Balthazar growls and smacks Castiel’s tail. _(You weren’t lying on either occasion. You do realize that your hand doesn’t count, right? Oh sweet mother, Cas, is that what you’re talking about? Did you finally -)_

This is getting annoying and Castiel turns to swim away. The last thing he wants to do is start talking about how he used to have sex with Dean. That isn’t something that he really wants to relive, especially when he won’t get to have that again. The most he’ll ever have again is his own hand and Castiel hasn’t even managed to bring himself to do that. On the mornings he wakes with an erection, or when the muscles of his sheath are twitching, Castiel ignores it. He waits until it goes away because if he does anything he knows just _who_ and _what_ he’s going to think about, and he’s not sure if he’s ready for that.

 _(Castiel!)_ Balthazar fists his fingers in Castiel’s adipose fins to drag him back. _(Tell me!)_

He digs his claws into the sand, trying to break away. They’re still wrestling when the next shift comes to relieve them. Castiel ignores the looks they get and he swims away as quickly as he can, diving down to his shelf. He’ll speak to Rachel later. Of course Balthazar follows him and he practically sits on Castiel once he settles into his sleep-groove.

 _(Tell me.)_ He tugs at Castiel’s back-fans. _(Tell me or I’ll tell Gabriel, and Anna about this.)_

Mother-sea, _no_. _(Yes, I’ve touched myself. Yes, I’ve had sex.)_  

 _(But with_ who _?)_

_(No one that you know.)_

Balthazar tugs harder and Castiel can actually _feel_ him stretching out with the kin-connection to prepare to call for their other siblings. He hisses and flicks his tail up to slap at Balthazar’s back. It doesn’t unseat him and he just holds on tighter.

_(I’m not going to tell anyone, Cas. You’re secret is safe with me.)_

_(No, it’s not.)_

_(Yes, yes it is.)_ Balthazar grabs Castiel’s tail and starts tickling his claws in the small space between his adipose-fins and where they overlap with the rounded webbing of his end-fans. It’s one of the few ticklish spots that Castiel has and he bucks so badly that he throws Balthazar off.

 _(I don’t want to talk about it!)_ He growls, pulling his tail in tightly and tucking against the back of his shelf. _(Just leave it alone.)_

They share a tense silence where Balthazar glares at him from the edge of the shelf. Castiel pulls himself closer into the corner. And then Balthazar smiles slyly, leaning back on the curl of his tail again. _(Fine. I’ll be back, and it’ll be with Gabriel_ and _Anna. Unless you’re willing to tell me which lovely female got to take my little brother’s virginity. I would like to get her a present.)_

 _(It wasn’t a_ she _.)_ Castiel bares his fangs and hisses, fans flared dangerously. _(I’m not attracted to females. They do nothing for me. I lost my virginity to a_ male _.)_

That shocks Balthazar into silence again, but this occasion is much shorter than the last and even shorter than Castiel expects.

_(Was it… oh what’s the name – Dean?)_

Castiel has Balthazar pinned against his shelf with a hand firmly clamped around his jaw and his tail twisted around his to keep it immobile. He leans in as close as he can, all his fans flared to show just how serious he is. His words are said very slowly and very carefully. _(How do you know his name.)_ It’s not even a question.

 _(You say it all the time while you’re sleeping.)_ Balthazar doesn’t seem bothered by Castiel’s reaction. He’s even _grinning_ , pulsing amusement into the kin-connection with every breath through his gills. _(I’ve been trying to figure out what that name means to you for_ ages _. So, Dean took your virginity? Interesting. Who is he? You didn’t mention that the two-tails had other fin-kin captured. Is it someone you met on the way home?)_

He draws away slowly, settling back against the wall again. Castiel finally said it. He told his brother and Balthazar doesn’t seem bothered by it. _(He – You really don’t care that I had sex with a male?)_

 _(How little you seem to know me, brother dear. Do I really seem like I would care about that?)_ He sits up and smoothes a hand over his scales. _(I can’t say that it’s something I’ve heard happening before, but why would I let that change how I think about you? You’re still_ you _.)_

Castiel chews at his bottom lip, leaning against the rock that guards his treasures. _(Would you feel the same even if Dean was a two-tails?)_

That does make Balthazar look at him sharply. Castiel rubs at the back of his neck and rather than wait for Balthazar to ask any questions, he explains. He narrows the kin-connection to only Balthazar’s mind and he tells him everything except for the more _intimate_ details. Balthazar sits quietly through the entire thing, eyes wide, mouth open.

Once Castiel stops, Balthazar slides across the shelf to wrap him in a hug. He doesn’t use words, but he’s pulsing apologies into the kin-connection. There’s a building anger trembling along the edges of the link and Castiel pushes those thoughts away.

_(Don’t be angry with Dean.)_

_(But he_ hurt _you, Cas. Nobody hurts my little brother.)_

Castiel shakes his head and pats Balthazar’s arm. _(I’m not angry with him anymore. I haven’t exactly forgiven him, but Dean was doing what he thought was best for me. Can you really say that you’d be angry with him when you know that if he hadn’t done what he did then I wouldn’t be here right now?)_

He growls and Castiel can feel the frown against his side-fan. _(An excellent point. But he_ hurt _you, Cas. I know you’re better, but you haven’t been the same since you got back and it all makes sense now that I know that you’ve been pining after this Dean.)_

Castiel leans into Balthazar and sighs heavily. He wants to apologize for keeping this from him for so long, but he can’t bring himself to. It had taken him this long just to be able to get himself to talk about Dean to anyone. It’s a weight off his shoulders and it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

_(You can’t tell Gabriel. Or Anna.)_

_(It’ll be our little secret. Don’t you worry about that.)_ Balthazar ruffles Castiel’s hair before pulling away. _(I hate to secret-share and swim, but this is getting awkward and you know how badly I deal with awkward. I’ll see you in the morning?)_

Castiel smiles and waves him off. He has a few fish stored in a corner of his shelf and he eats those before attempting to sleep. That plan doesn’t works so well. The numb feeling in his chest feels like it’s almost completely healed. He still misses Dean, he still loves Dean, but he isn’t angry anymore. He might almost be ready to forgive him.

He traces the symbol carved into the sleep shelf and hums Ramble On long enough that the words start to sound like nonsense.

When he finally sits up, it’s because he’s tired of being sleepy and not sleeping. The grate-thump sound the rock makes as Castiel pulls it out of the way sounds oddly ominous. It’s almost enough to make him push it back into place and forget what he’s about to do. The kelp had rotted and fallen away long ago, leaving nothing but the plastic bag. Castiel’s hands shake when he takes it from the hidden hole.

With his back to the colony, Castiel opens the bag. He gropes around inside for Dean’s necklace and his heart feels like it’s stopped in the few moments it takes his fingers to find it. With the pendant pressing into his palm securely and the string wrapped around his hand, he takes out the hard flat thing that Dean had worked so hard on for him. Castiel brightens his glow enough to be able to see what it is.

He almost wishes he had left the bag untouched.

It’s just two pieces of glass, held together by a thick, hard edge of something Castiel doesn’t know. It could be plastic, or something else human-made. Whatever it is, it’s kept the space between the glass dry. Several pictures smile up at him and Castiel stifles a small, choked noise in the back of his throat. He traces the faces of Sam and Jess, laying together in their bed on Crowley’s boat and making faces at whomever is taking the picture. Next to that is a picture of Dean, Sam, Jess and Bobby, standing at the railing at the back of the boat, smiling and waving at the camera.

There’s one more picture of Dean and Bobby, both of them eating at a table on the second deck as if they don’t know the camera is there. The three other pictures under those are all of Dean and Castiel. One is where they’re curled together on the bed, Castiel’s face hidden against the back of Dean’s neck and his tail tangled with his legs while Dean drools on the pillow, his arm wrapped securely around Dean’s stomach. The second picture Castiel immediately recognizes as the one Dean took with his phone while they were sitting under the blanket-cave on the deck, Castiel’s back to Dean’s chest before they started reading the book. And the third is a kiss. It’s a little blurry, but it is unmistakably Dean pressing Castiel into the pillows while he kisses him.

Castiel covers his mouth to smother  any noises that might escape and he closes his eyes. He flips the glass so he won’t see the pictures when he opens his eyes and he folds over it. The tears hurt, but he doesn’t stop them. Dean knew he was sad that he wouldn’t have a keepsake like Dean would with the pictures. Dean _knew_ and he made something that Castiel could take home, something Castiel could have to remember not just him, but _everyone_.

He opens his eyes, ready to flip the glass and see the pictures again, to see Dean’s face again and remember Sam’s floppy hair, Bobby’s hat and Jess’s warm smile. Castiel stops. The other side of the glass has just one great big picture. It’s the one that Castiel liked the best, the picture of him and Dean sitting on the edge of the bed in small-sea’s room. He’s leaning into Dean’s side, his head on his shoulder and his tail curled around his hips. Dean’s cheek is resting against the top of Castiel’s head and he looks relaxed, and happy and Castiel misses him.

He forgives him.


	39. Reply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dreams almost completely stop not long after Castiel returns to the trench from the border patrols. Sometimes he re-dreams them, but they’re out of focus and Castiel just knows that he’s seen them before. He’s very distracted from what few thoughts he still has about Dean by returning from the patrol to find out that he is going to be an uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: pappcave, kayla-kaat, rookhazel, cas-hasthepolicebox, blackinkedfeather, merthurlocked, lordwhat, gdayidjits, doreans, Hannah, iraisedyoufromperditionassbutt, mesmeretmarjorie
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> **I thought this was going to be the last chapter, with the next being the epilogue. But that has quite obviously changed. I'm seeing one more chapter, maybe. If they're not assbutts.**

The dreams start nearly two and a half seasons after his return home – less than a rotation after he opens the picture-gift. They’re not like the nightmares he still gets once every other rotation, or the dreams that have him waking with a frustrating and familiar ache in his gut. These dreams are different. Usually his dreams are vibrant and Castiel can remember most of them rather clearly.

These new dreams are hazy and foggy. The closest that Castiel can think of for them is when someone is sending images through the kin-connection from its very edge. They’re weak and at first he doesn’t remember them. But they keep happening, night after night, never changing. It’s the same thing over and over, and they are always about _Dean_.

They start with Dean drinking. Always drinking. Dean is never without a bottle in his hand and a blurred fog around his head. It takes too long for Castiel to realize that in these dreams Dean is drunk almost constantly. Sam and Jess stand together to one side of this unfocused dream world. Sometimes they talk to Dean, but most of the time they just look sad. Whatever words they say are just noise, sounds that don’t form anything coherent that Castiel ever heard while he was with them.

Sometimes this dream-Dean has his arm around the shoulders of faceless female – never the same one. He always wakes up from those whenever it seems like Dean is going to kiss them. It usually puts him in a bad mood for that day. Of course Castiel doesn’t expect that Dean would never be with anyone else again once he returned home. But it’s not something that he actually wants to think about, let alone have his subconscious show him.

The longer Castiel has the dreams, the worse Dean starts to look in them as his clothing gets dirtier and dirtier. The intervals between the females gets longer and longer, until one morning Castiel realizes that he hasn’t seen them in a few rotations. Sometimes, in the dreams, Dean is sitting in what Castiel remembers as his ‘baby’. He can’t remember the word for it, but it’s big, black and shiny. Dean usually has one hand on a circle and Castiel sometimes thinks that Dean is singing when he’s sitting like that.

As Castiel suffers with these troubling dreams, the war ends just before the mating season starts. Even the fang-fin don’t want to put eggs and eventual hatchlings at risk. The two colonies come to an agreement to share the trench and its many resources – as Castiel’s colony has first suggested. It seems that, in this long war, his colony has fought hard enough to earn the fang-fin’s respect. The relationship between the colonies remains strained, but no one tries to kill anyone anymore.

The fang-fin find themselves their own hunting ground in a different direction than the one Castiel’s colony uses. It’s a little farther, but this way they’re not fighting for food. Whenever one of Castiel’s colony groups go out to the kelp forests to tend them and harvest a few strands, fang-fin go with them too. Another forest is founded and hopefully, within a few seasons, it will be ready to cover the demands the fang-fin have for their colony.

When the mating season finally starts and the females become heavy with eggs, Castiel leaves for border patrols with the males who don’t want to father a nest this season. It’s easier on them that way. They don’t have to be forced to smell the females’ pheromones or the scent of sex in the water. Also, the females get irritable when they’re heavy with eggs and not mating.

Unsurprisingly, Balthazar goes on patrol with him.

 _(I thought you were going to father a nest this season.)_ Castiel prods at his brother’s mind through the kin-connection as he swims over him, brushing his back fan as he passes. _(What changed your mind?)_

Balthazar flips to swim upside down and he slants a smirk up at him. _(I remembered how much I loathe children. They’re so needy and annoying. Why would I want to deal with them when we’re already burdened with Gabriel?)_

 Castiel laughs and slides back into formation. It’s true that because Gabriel chose not to be a warrior he spends most – if not all – of his time in the colony. His position in the council is to determine what punishment someone would receive if they broke colony law. It means that he’s often very bored, as few fin-kin actually disobey.

 _(Anna was considering it before we left.)_ Balthazar speaks up awhile later and Castiel’s fans flare, surprised that she didn’t mention it to him earlier.

_(Are you sure it was Anna and not someone else who happens to look like our sister?)_

_(She’s bored out of her mind with the war over.)_ He shrugs and Castiel gets the feeling that Balthazar is quickly losing interest in this topic. _(Anna said that maybe raising a nest would be enough to keep her occupied for a while.)_

Castiel frowns. Mothering a nest shouldn’t be about alleviating boredom or keeping oneself _occupied_. Anna should only have a nest if she really wants one. What if she gets bored of the hatchlings? Just because the colony will help when help is needed, doesn’t mean – He stops thinking about it. It’s none of his business. Anna is a grown female and she’s always been responsible. He trusts her to make the right decision for herself and any of her future hatchlings.

Since the season started, Castiel has stopped to wonder what it would be like to have a nest of his own. He likes children of all ages and it would be nice to be a father. Maybe being so focused on a nest would be enough to stop these weird dreams. But Castiel has never had a physical reaction to a female and he’s not sure if thinking of a male while being with a female would be enough to maintain an erection.

It’s not like he’s actually done anything like that since he came home. Even though Balthazar knows about Castiel’s preferences, no one else does. And even with this new knowledge, he hasn’t _tried_ to observe the other males in the colony to find out if any of them are like him. Although Castiel doesn’t think of Dean as often as he used to, the thought of being with someone else has his stomach knotting and makes him feel like he might be sick.

He knows he’ll never forget Dean – he holds so many of Castiel’s firsts and still takes up such a that it feels like a betrayal to forget anything about him. Castiel wishes he could say that he doesn’t remember the last time he looked at the pictures that Dean gave him. But he has always had a good memory and he knows that it was two rotations ago. At least once a month he’ll take the glass frame out just to make sure that his memories haven’t changed. He’s scared that if he doesn’t look then he’ll forget what everyone looks like. Despite the short time that he spent with them, Dean and his family impacted his life in such a big way that he never wants to actually forget them in anyway. Even if he doesn’t think about them every single day.

Balthazar breaks formation to pull up next to him. He reaches out to touch the string and kept around Castiel’s neck. _(You always wear this whenever we’ll be away from the trench.)_

Castiel touches the pendant fluttering against the dip of his collarbone while he swims. It’s Dean’s necklace, the cord reinforced with kelp. When he’s away from his sleep-shelf, the necklace is a decent replacement for the symbol carved next to his groove. Sometimes he thinks it’s weird that such little things bring him comfort at night, but he has more trouble sleeping without them and it’s not something he wants to stop and analyze.

 _(It belonged to_ him _, didn’t it?)_ Balthazar’s thoughts feel secretive and displeased. As much as he doesn’t mind what Castiel did with and felt for a two-tails, he gets more and more irritated with every passing rotation. _(Are you_ ever _going to move on? I’m sure there are plenty of warriors who would be –)_

 _(I have moved on.)_ At least he has for as much as he can without having someone else to move on to. _(Just because I like to carry a reminder of Dean doesn’t mean that I still hold hope that I’ll see him again. Most of my memories of him bring me a sense of peace.)_

Balthazar mulls over that for a few minutes before he asked a question that nearly makes Castiel stop swimming entirely. _(Do you still love him?)_

He takes a second too long to answer and Balthazar huffs in annoyance. _(I will never understand you.)_

 _(For a short time, Dean was family. I will always love him, same as I will always love you.)_ Castiel smiles at him as Balthazar curves away back into his spot. He’s the only one Castiel has told about Dean and the only one he can talk to about him and the strange dreams he’s been having. _(You’ll understand when you finally love someone.)_

 _(When did you become so soft, Cas?)_ He makes a dramatic gesture with one hand before the tones of his thoughts turn somber. _(I don’t know if I’ll ever feel what you felt. And don’t you dare feel sorry for me over that. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, I don’t mind. I’m quite happy in my bachelorhood.)_

That night Castiel has another of his dreams. This time Dean is sitting in front of a – it takes him a while after the dream to remember that it’s called a computer. There is a bottle next to the computer and Dean drinks from it repeatedly while he sits there. His clothing changes over the course of the dream and the longer it runs, the less Dean drinks. It’s only after Castiel has woken up that he realizes for the last half of the dream there had been no bottle beside the computer.

He doesn’t tell Balthazar about the dream. It would only lead to questions about what a computer is and Castiel barely understands himself, he doubts he could explain it enough for Balthazar to understand too.

Over the few rotations that they’re away from the colony, Castiel only has the strange dreams a few more times. They’re all about Dean sitting at a computer, typing away at the little buttons. Castiel never sees the bottle again and the foggy blur around his head is long gone. Instead of a bottle, there are books stacked next to him and sometimes Dean stops to flip through them. Dean seems focused, intent on whatever it is that he’s doing and for the first time in seasons, he sees Dean’s smile.

Castiel doesn’t tell Balthazar that he sometimes thinks that these dreams are glimpses into Dean’s life. At the same time, he hopes that they’re not. They help him to feel close to Dean even though they’re so far apart, but he doesn’t want to think about what these dreams mean for Dean if they are.

The dreams almost completely stop not long after Castiel returns to the trench from the border patrols. Sometimes he re-dreams them, but they’re out of focus and Castiel just _knows_ that he’s seen them before. He’s very distracted from what few thoughts he still has about Dean by returning from the patrol to find out that he is going to be an uncle.

Gabriel is all grins when he escorts Castiel and Balthazar down to the nesting shelves. Several females are scouting through the available shelves, their arms full of kelp or they’re carrying stones to a chosen shelf to build their nests. One female, a dark skinned warrior with red scales and double back-fans like Castiel, is already seated on a shelf. She keeps rearranging the rocks that the kelp is woven around, pushing them together and pulling them apart.

Castiel recognizes her as one of the strongest fighters in Lucifer’s garrison.

 _(Why’d you go and mess with it? It was just fine before.)_ Gabriel swims around her once before sitting on the curl of his tail next to her.

 _(“Just fine” isn’t_ perfect _.)_ She bares her teeth and shoves him away so he isn’t leaning against her side. _(If you’re going to flit around here then make yourself useful and go get more kelp.)_

Gabriel just laughs and he looks at her so fondly it actually surprises Castiel. He’s had no idea that Gabriel thought of anyone like that, let alone was even able to make that kind of expression – the kind Castiel used to make when looking Dean. _(Little bros, meet Kali. She’s going to be my nest-mate!)_

He reaches to rub her swollen belly and she slaps his hand away. Castiel estimates that Kali will expel the eggs into the nest in a day or less. Which explains why she’s so focused on making the nest perfect. Her irritability seems normal, considering the stories he’s heard from Lucifer.

 _(Nest-mate? I don’t think so. I better hear a certain song before these eggs hatch or you’ll be swimming with a limp for the rest of your days.)_ Kali smacks at Gabriel again, this time with her tail, but there is a small smile on her lips and she has that same fond expression when she looks at him.

Yes, this is definitely the Kali that Lucifer described.

Within the day, the nest is filled with five eggs and Castiel’s excitement doesn’t even compare to Gabriel’s. His voice sings the loudest when he and Kali announce to the colony that their nest was delivered safely.  Kali rarely leaves the nest-shelf and Gabriel brings anyone unfortunate enough to get caught by him down to see the eggs.

 _(I don’t know if I can take another four rotations of this.)_ Anna whines, finding Castiel on his sleep-shelf where he is sharpening his weapons. She expelled her unfertilized eggs days ago and is still grouchy. _(He’s unbearable.)_

 _(You’d be the same if it was you.)_ Castiel doesn’t even look up as he pushes the rock along the edge of his dagger. He wants a sharp blade for when he shaves. It’s been a few days and he should do that soon. _(It’s his first nest, let Gabriel have his fun before Kali ties his tail down.)_

Anna huffs and curls around behind him, bunching her tail against his side. _(If he makes me go see that nest again, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.)_

 _(I hope you’re not like this when the eggs hatch. You’re going to be their only aunt, you know. Kali lost all her siblings in the war.)_ Castiel continues, brightening his glow to examine the edge of his dagger. It’s almost perfect. _(And if you’re not careful, our kin might think you’re jealous. Didn’t you want a nest?)_

 _(No, not really. Not yet.)_ She huffs again, flicking at the sharpening rocks piled next to him. _(After the excitement of the war, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.)_

 _(The same as you did with yourself before, perhaps.)_ He understands her feelings.

They are the same feelings that he had when he was first trapped in small-sea, before he had made friends with the two-tails and been entertained by them. As much as there is to do here – gathering food, storing food, guarding the colony, tending the kelp forests, mining metals from the cliff walls – there are often long periods of time between these tasks where there is nothing to do. Many of his people have hobbies to alleviate the boredom during those times. But it’s the warriors who are having trouble readjusting to their old habits.

_(Have you designed any new necklaces? Yours were always the prettiest.)_

Anna starts stacking the rocks and pushing them over. _(I’m out of supplies.)_

 _(Would you like me to go with you to find more? I’m sure there’s a whole pile of shells sitting on Gabriel’s shelf that we could take.)_ That should get her interest. Taking empty shells from Gabriel is one of Anna’s favourite teasing pastimes –Gabriel, for some reason, only keeps the sweet snail shells of the ones that he eats while he’s on his sleep-shelf.

 _(It’s no fun when he’s not there for you to distract.)_ She makes that huffing noise again and it’s plucking at Castiel’s nerves. _(You know what I’d_ really _like to do?)_

Of course this is what she’s always after and he always denies her. This time will be no different. _(Go take the shells, Anna. I’ll get the kelp and help you cut and braid it.)_

She slaps at his shoulder with the end of her tail. _(Why won’t you ever just_ show _me it? I’ve been waiting for seasons, Castiel._ Seasons! _)_

 _(It’s nobody’s business but my own.)_ Castiel hasn’t even shown Balthazar the picture-gift. He’s mentioned it, but Balthazar has never seen it.

 _(What about that necklace you sometimes wear? Are you ever going to tell me about it?)_ She sits up at his side and leans against his arm. _(You never used to keep secrets from me.)_

_(There are some things that need to be kept secret.)_

Anna put her chin on his shoulder and he doesn’t need to look to know that she’s staring at him. _(What if I told you what I’ve heard from the patrols? A story for a story?)_

_(You first.)_

_(Castiel.)_ She growls and slides away across his shelf to settle in his sleep-groove. _(Trying to get anything out of you is more difficult than getting Michael to talk about council meetings.)_

 _(He doesn’t talk about –)_ Oh. He gets it.

Anna laughs and settles on her stomach, watching him from across the shelf. _(Well you’ll find out from someone about what the patrols are saying, I might as well tell you anyways. Do you remember the wrong-song?)_

Castiel nearly drops his dagger. He does drop the rock and it rolls off his lap as he stares at her. Of course he remembers the wrong-song. When he saved Balthazar from the fake-cave, they both had to tell the whole story of how they had heard it in the first place. It nearly cost Gabriel and Lucifer their candidacy to the council.

His reaction seems answer enough and Anna grins at him, all teeth and curved eyes. _(The patrols call it the ghost-song. They clear the area if anyone hears it, but they never hear it in the same place. It moves, but it’s not following anyone. Even the fang-fin have heard it by their hunting grounds for a few days, but then it was gone. Like it moved on.)_

 _(What –)_ Castiel fumbles for the rock, trying to maintain his calm. _(What was the song?)_

The wrong-song had been both a warning and a cry of loneliness, a cry for family and friends. The whole colony knows of it and would be able to identify it. The patrols wouldn’t call this new song anything else if it was the same. If the two-tails have access to a new song, it could only be one that he sang. Is it Gordon? Was Sam wrong about how they’d gotten rid of all the information that Lilith could have kept? Is Gordon back and trying to lure another fin-kin with one of Castiel’s songs? Which song could it be? He sang so many for Dean.

 _(Nobody has stuck around long enough to listen to more than a few notes. They can’t even identify the voice singing it. And the fang-fin who have heard it can’t sing it and they don’t know the song.)_ Anna tilts her head and she’s looking at him steadily, like she’s studying his reactions. Castiel had glossed over – or rather, hadn’t even mentioned – that he had sang more than the lonely song while he was held captive.

_(Aside from the patrols, who else knows about the ghost-song?)_

Anna hums quietly for a few moments before she rolls from the groove and out into the void beyond the edge of his shelf. _(It’s just rumor for now, but Inias – he’s in charge of the patrols now – has asked to call the council into session to tell them about it. They will be meeting soon, I expect. As soon as someone can convince Gabriel to leave Kali and his nest.)_

Castiel’s hands shake slightly as he tries to continue sharpening the blade. Anna swims in a few circles and settles next to him again, putting an arm around his shoulders. _(More happened than you told us, didn’t it? Is it your song? Is it your friends?)_

 _(I don’t think it is. They didn’t have any recordings of my songs and they said they destroyed all the information that long-white had on me, including the songs.)_ Castiel stops scrapping the rock and he huffs water through his gills. _(It might be one of long-white’s subordinates. If they managed to keep some of the information, one of the songs, and my friends didn’t know – dark-skin could be trying to use it, trying to trick me into thinking it’s my friends.)_

His stomach flips and twists. He doesn’t want to put any hope into thinking that it’s Dean. It’s been just over four seasons since he saw him last. Castiel will always miss him, will always love him. He’s let go of that pain, of how much it hurt to have Dean push him away. Or he thought he did. But there’s something clutching in his chest at the thought of – what if it is Dean? What if Dean came back for him?

If it is Dean, does Castiel want to see him? He does but at the same time he doesn’t. If Dean isn’t here to stay, Castiel doesn’t want to see him, talk to him, _be_ with him again only to watch Dean leave. He can’t do it. He can’t do it _again_. Once was almost more than he could bear. A second time would destroy him.

 _(Castiel?)_ Anna squeezes his shoulders. _(Little one, what’s wrong?)_

He puts his dagger aside and turns into Anna’s hold. Balthazar is away at the kelp forests and it would take Castiel nearly a whole day to get there just to speak to him about this. And all Balthazar would do is complain about how he hasn’t moved on and Dean is little better than a slug for breaking his heart. If anything, Balthazar might actually try and find the ghost-song himself just to follow it to the source and prove Castiel wrong so he’ll stop worrying.

If it’s not Dean, that could be disastrous.

Castiel pulls away from Anna and she watches, pulsing curiosity and concern into the kin-connection, as he slides across his sleep-shelf with a gentle roll of his tail. Delight flares into his head as he rolls the rock aside and reaches into his hiding space for the picture-gift. Without a word, he holds it out to Anna and she takes it excitedly. Almost immediately the excitement dies in a sharp burst of surprise and an audible gasp.

 _(Green-eyes – his name is Dean.)_ Castiel says it to silence as Anna brightens her glow and holds the picture-gift closer to her face, squinting at the images under the glass. _(I might have understated the relationship I had with him.)_

 _(Understated?)_ Anna scoffs and points at the bottom corner of the glass. _(Castiel, he’s_ kissing _you!)_

 _(Yes, and I am kissing him.)_ He says it firmly and he slaps his tail in the space between them to get her to look up at him. _(And I did much more than that with him.)_

She flinches when he takes everything he once felt – everything he still feels – for Dean and fills the kin-connection with it. He follows those feelings with the same story he shared with Balthazar and he ends it with his hope that she won’t think differently of him. Anna sits silently, turning the picture-gift over and over in her hands while she looks them over.

It is several long moments before she sighs through her gills and hands the picture-gift back to him. _(I can’t say I approve of you having had a relationship with a two-tails, but at least you picked the attractive one.)_ She smiles softly and covers his hands with her own. _(I knew there was something different about you when you came back and that it was more than the stress of everything that you’d been through. I’m sorry you were hurt, Castiel.)_

He puts the picture-gift away and rolls the rock back into place before he lets her hug him. _(I forgave him a long time ago. Please don’t hate him either.)_

 _(Of course I won’t.)_ Anna pats him on the arm. _(You came back to us because of him. Honestly, I’d only hate him if you had actually come home only to say goodbye and then left with him.)_ Her glare is mocking and Castiel makes a face at it.

They talk quietly about it until the song for the council meeting rises through the trench and they head to it together. The meeting is everything Castiel expected it to be. Inias recounts all the incidents when his patrol teams heard the song and even a few fang-fin are brought in to try and explain what they heard. Their memories of it aren’t the greatest since they don’t have an affinity for song like Castiel’s colony does.

To Castiel’s relief, the council does not call upon him when someone mentions that it could be a new ploy like the wrong-song and he doesn’t have to leave the stage where he and Anna found a place to sit. Several colony-kin approach the dais to express their worries about two-tails finding their home, but no one says anything about leaving. The discussion between the council members and the colony takes hours and Castiel listens to it all.

It’s a surprise when Michael gestures to his stage and calls for him during a lull in the discussion. Anna shoves him from the stage and he dives to the dais to sit on it, facing the council like he had four seasons prior.

_(You are our reigning expert on two-tails. I’d like to hear your thoughts on this situation, Castiel.)_

He winces. This should have been expected.

 _(If you’re asking about what they could use to locate us, I don’t know. The last time I sat here I spoke of their machines. But I barely understood what they did explain to me.)_ Castiel chooses to ignore the disapproving glare he gets from Raphael and he continues.

_(I wouldn’t have the first idea about what they could use to find us. The best that I can suggest is that we stay away from it. No matter what the song is, we turn around and swim in the other direction. If the song really is being played by two-tails and they are moving around, it is possible that they’re trying to lure us to their floating-reef instead of into a fake-cave. My best suggestion is, if the song comes near the colony, that everyone go to their sleep-shelves and stay there until the song moves on. We don’t make a target of ourselves if we don’t move.)_

Murmurs of approval echo through the auditorium. Michael dismisses him back to his place and as soon as he’s seated Anna nudges his shoulder. She looks at him seriously and he narrows the kin-connection to speak with her privately.

_(What if it’s Dean?)_

_(It’s not.)_

_(Are you sure?)_

He’s not. But he doesn’t want to say that. He doesn’t want to hope or even dare to think that it might be him. That uncomfortable tension knotting his insides feels like it did four seasons ago and it scares him. It took him almost three seasons to finally let go and his memories of Dean don’t affect him like they used to. And now he’s being torn apart all over again.

On one hand he would like it to be Dean for more reasons than he dares to think about. On the other, he would almost prefer it to be Gordon, or any other two-tails. As long as it means it’s not Dean, then he doesn’t care who it is. He’s not sure what he would do, what he would say, or if he could stand to say ‘goodbye’ again. What if seeing Dean again brings back all the hurt Castiel felt when he was left behind?

Anna doesn’t ask again.

The council comes to a decision and they agree to follow Castiel’s suggestion. The colony is instructed to spread the news and messengers are sent to tell the fang-fin and to inform the kin currently stationed at the kelp forests. At Metatron’s insistence, the colony practices what everyone should do if the song was heard. It’s a boring practice, but Castiel usually stays on his shelf when he has nothing to do so it’s not that bad for him.

That night he has another of the strange dreams and this time it’s a new one – possibly inspired by all the thinking he did the day before about Dean. This new dream is filled with Dean and Sam standing over a table covered in large pieces of paper. Jess comes and goes, bringing plates of food or cups of drink. She stops often to lean over the other side of the table and look at the papers. Dean keeps pointing at the papers and Sam keeps shaking his head. Sometimes they fight, sometimes Sam nods and Dean grins so brightly at him that they hug.

When he wakes, Castiel feels – for the first time in a long time – warm inside. Even if it’s only in his dreams, seeing Dean and his family happy makes Castiel happy. And he can only hope that if there is even a smidgen of truth to his dreams, that Jess’s growing stomach can only mean that she and Sam are expecting a family of their own – just like Gabriel.

Balthazar returns on the next rotation and he comes straight to him. Castiel is on sentry duty and Balthazar sits next to him without a word. They sit in silence until Castiel can’t take it anymore.

_(I don’t want to talk about if it’s Dean or not.)_

_(I didn’t say anything.)_ Balthazar shrugs, picking up handfuls of sand and letting it drift around his webbing and between his fingertips. _(I’m only here in case you want to talk.)_

Castiel’s hand goes to the pendant around his neck. He’s been wearing it more and more since he heard about the ghost-song. It brings him the calm that he needs. Whenever he thinks about this new song and whomever might be behind it, his heart beats harder, faster. He’ll start to feel nauseated until he holds that pendant and reminds himself that that part of his life, however short, is over. Dean is on the other side of the world. No matter what dreams Castiel has, Dean is living his own life somewhere else, somewhere Castiel isn’t. He’s okay with that. He can live with that.

He can’t deal with Dean being so close and not being able to go to him and be with him. Since the news of the ghost-song, Castiel is aware that he’s being watched. It’s a different colony-kin every time he notices them, but they’re either Raphael’s siblings or one of the many fin-kin he has who carry out his orders. It’s no surprise that Raphael thinks the reason the ghost-song is here is because he led the two-tails to the trench or gave them the information they needed to come here.

_(I already talked with Anna. I’m fine.)_

Balthazar’s alarm flickers through the kin-connection in a sharp wave. _(I thought I was the only one who knew about this!)_

_(You were. But you were gone and I needed someone to talk to.)_

_(She doesn’t know more than me, does she?)_

Castiel sighs and rises up from his rock, chirping echoes to check the area. _(It’s not a competition.)_

He can actually feel the pout at his back. _(I thought I was your favourite sibling.)_

_(I don’t have favourites, Balthazar. You know that.)_

The following debate ends when Castiel is, essentially, forced into showing Balthazar the picture-gift so he’ll stop going on about Anna knowing more than him. Balthazar takes one look at it, wrinkles his nose, and hands it back.

_(I really don’t know how you could find a two-tails attractive. They’re so – inelegant. But I agree with Anna, at least you picked the best looking one.)_

Castiel can’t help laughing.

x

It’s a few days later when he dreams of smooth skin under his hands, hot breaths against his lips. A voice that makes his fins ripple and a warmth that burns him from the inside as he presses into a heat like he’s never felt before. He wakes from it feeling too hot in his skin with the muscles of his sheath already contracting. And this is absolutely the worst timing for it to happen.

He can hear other members of the colony starting to wake too, which means it’s shift change for sentry duty and he’s a part of this rotation. There’s no time for him to spend an untold amount of time sitting here waiting for an erection to go away – and with the memories of that dream so fresh in his mind, it’s going to be a while.

Of course, Castiel could always just take care of it himself. It would take less time and it’s been seasons since anyone – even himself – touched him there. He’s been putting it off for too long and maybe it’s time to move on in this part of his life too.

Castiel gets his belt with his dagger and sword and takes them to the forest of boulders where his colony goes for a certain level of privacy. He finds a space tucked away between the rocks and sits with his back to one. After shielding himself from the kin-connection, Castiel spends  a few uncomfortable moments staring down at his lap. Once he relaxes, his penis slides free from his sheath easily and now he’s staring down at his erection.

His fingers are cold when he touches himself and Castiel closes his eyes, trying to think of anything that could help this along faster. He stays away from his memories  and tries not to think about _who’s_ hand it is. If anything, he tries to imagine there’s webbing between the fingers with claws as long as his. If the knuckles are dusted with freckles and the body he imagines pressed against his is warmer than the average fin-kin, than that’s not a problem. He still imagines a tail twined around his own and the press of sharp teeth against his shoulder.

It feels good. Not once does he think of a certain name, not once does he think of green-eyes or a deep voice that rumbles through his bones. Deep down he knows that the green scales only belong to one person, but as long as he doesn’t think about it, it doesn’t bother him.

He hits his head on the rock behind him when he comes. It stings and it lessens the pleasing feeling of the orgasm that makes his tail twists and curl, adipose fins rippling. But within minutes he’s resheathed and the scent of his release is already fading into the water. Something unsettling twists in his gut and he touches at the necklace to try and calm it, but it only slightly works this time and he distracts himself from that by taking his place in the sentry and focusing entirely on his echoes and the pictures they make in his head when they bounce back to him.

x

Gabriel’s nest hatches without an issues. By then, he and Kali have sang the bonding song together and made their vows in front of the colony. His nest hatches with two sons and three daughters. Their skin is darker than Gabriel’s, but lighter than Kali’s and their glow patterns and colours vary from both families.

Only one of the hatchlings has double back-fans, a male with a pale tail that might take after Gabriel’s colouring when he gets older. Gabriel names that hatchling Cassiel and Castiel feels honoured.  The others are named after Kali’s fallen siblings.

For several rotations any spare time the colony has is devoted to caring for and protecting the hatchlings. They grow quickly and learn fast, but they have to be watched at all times or they might swim off into dangerous waters. Castiel adores every single one of his nieces and nephews and he’s more than happy to volunteer to watch the nest when Kali or Gabriel need to hunt or simply need a break.

The hatchlings are a welcome distraction from thoughts about the ghost-song. Sometimes the ghost-song is heard many times within the span of a few rotations. Other times, within roughly the same amount of time, it won’t be heard at all. It’s confusing and rather annoying. Castiel almost wishes that they would send someone to follow it, to try and find a pattern or at least see what the source is.

He hasn’t heard it himself yet and that’s another part of the problem. If anyone knows what song it is, no one has told him or shared it with those who would tell him. The curiosity eats at him but no matter how many patrols or trips to the kelp forests that he makes, he never hears it. If the fang-fin weren’t up in arms about it too, Castiel would almost think that it was all just some cruel joke.

It’s nearly into the sixth season since his return home that Anna comes diving through the trench. Castiel is helping the weavers cut lengths of kelp to make rope when she nearly tackles him from the ledge they work on. Her mind is completely sealed from the kin-connection and the walls protecting her thoughts don’t have any give to them as she drags him away, barely giving him the chance to apologize and get his tail moving properly.

“Anna!” He uses his throat-voice to get her attention since she’s blocked from the kin-connection. He hasn’t used it except to sing.

She doesn’t stop until they’re in the privacy-rocks and Castiel feels awkward being here with his older sister. Anna drags him further than those, beyond the large rocks to where they end. It’s only there, when Castiel can’t sense anyone around them, that she stops and turns to face him. The walls around her mind fall away and Anna grabs his shoulders. He braces for a shaking that never comes.

_(I heard it.)_

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath and he grips her arms, careful not to dig his claws in. _(Where?)_

 _(Not too far. I was collecting shells. If we swim out a little ways, we might be able to hear it.)_ She moves her hands to cup his face and Castiel goes still, his side-fans narrowing and dropping as his back-fans flatten. Whatever she’s about to tell him is extremely serious. _(I stayed and listened. It was just the last few notes, and I couldn’t recognize the song itself, but I know the voice.)_

His stomach sinks. _(It’s mine.)_ Her nod makes him feel sick.

Castiel is almost certain that Dean didn’t have a copy of his songs with him. He only had the pictures and Sam said that all his information was removed from the computers. If Gordon managed to save them before they were removed like how Dean saved the pictures before he risked his phone, then he could easily be using Castiel’s song against him.

Anna doesn’t let him swim away. She holds him tightly and Castiel doesn’t know what to feel. The ghost-song has been around for almost a season and if any of his colony, if any of the fang-fin, get curious enough to follow it… He could put the whole colony at risk. His voice is trusted enough that if someone listens to it long enough like Anna, they might go to it thinking it’s him – depending on the song.

 _(We already suspected this when the patrols said it wasn’t the wrong-song. Now we know for sure and that’s okay.)_ Anna presses a kiss to his forehead and smoothes her hands through his hair. _(It won’t be a problem even if someone else finds out. Okay, little one?)_

He huffs against her shoulder. _(I’m barely two rotations younger than you.)_

 _(That’s every reason to keep calling you that. Now come, let’s go back to the weavers and I’ll help out.)_ She draws away from him and cups his face again. _(It will be fine.)_

And it is for all of two days.

Castiel is helping the miners this morning. He knows bright-pearl has barely risen above the horizon, but he plans to continue working until this task is complete. The metals that the miners dig from the walls of the trench and the caves they’ve dug need to be sorted according to size and Castiel is one of many volunteers who take from the piles at the front of the cave and carry them to holes above the smiths working area. He nearly drops the rock – nearly the size of his head – when the pure _panic_ surges through the kin-connection.

A messenger tears through the trench, broadcasting a warning loudly. The sentries can hear the ghost-song. They can hear it and everyone is to take the practiced precaution and return to their sleep-shelves until the ghost-song can no longer be heard.

Fin-kin throughout the colony are shouting for loved ones and parents are ushering their children to the hatchlings’ shelf where the parents will stay to keep them from swimming off. Castiel passes Anna on  his way back to his shelf and she swims close enough to brush her tail along his in a gesture of comfort, much like the calm she traces along the edges of his mind.

Silence falls and the trench grows dark as everyone forces their glows to dim. Castiel presses himself into a corner of his shelf and he hugs his tail to his chest. He hasn’t heard the song yet and just because the sentries have heard it, doesn’t mean he’ll be able to. His sleep-shelf might be too deep into the trench for the ghost-song to reach.

No one else hears it but the sentries – the song is too quiet, too far.

It’s gone by the time bright-pearl is likely sinking below the horizon. Few fin-kin slept through it. Those who take over for the sentries are exhausted, but they stay vigilante throughout the night as the rest of the colony sleeps. Come morning, everyone is still very tense – and for good reason.

Castiel has barely woken up and stretched before the sentries alert the colony and the warning echoes against the walls of the trench. His breakfast is a few clams he had stashed away for a late night snack if he ever wakes from a nightmare. The food immediately sours in his stomach and Castiel wants to put his hands over his side-fans to block out the distant song.

He can feel the colony’s surprise as more and more of his kin recognize his voice. The surprise turns to horror and Castiel covers his mouth instead, one hand closing around the pendant. The horns dig into his palm and he doesn’t care. The little pinch of pain distracts from how very sick he feels. Of all the songs it could be, why did it have to be _that one_? It’s not fair.

The bonding song plays throughout the colony and Castiel wants to close himself to the confusion. There’s edges of judgment and a few curls of disgust to the bewilderment as it fill his head, pulsing through his mind. Balthazar is the one who gets to him first. Anna is seconds behind him and they both curl around him, wrapping him in tails and arms.

 _(Close your mind, Castiel. Ignore them and close your mind.)_ Balthazar insists and Anna only says the same things.

It’s not going to stop him from hearing the song, but he does it before Lucifer or Michael – mother-sea help him if it’s Raphael – get into his mind to question him. The song starts and ends as nothing more than a single voice – _his_ voice – playing through the waters. Hearing it only brings back the memories he’s forced himself not to remember, though he’ll never forget them.

Since it’s the whole song, Castiel knows it’s not the one that he sang in Lilith’s rooms. It’s the one he sang to Dean after that day, the one he sang when Dean wouldn’t let him make the kin-connection. Castiel remembers how Jess said it was a love song and how Dean had run away. He remembers Dean freeing him, the kiss goodbye and the taste of freedom, the fear of seeing Dean in the water and giving up his newly gained freedom to  save Dean’s life.

He remembers singing the song again when Dean fully understood its meaning, and how he hadn’t ran away. Castiel remembers the acceptance and the kisses, the burning warmth that filled his chest, Dean’s fear at not being able to be what Castiel wanted and that he was going to leave.

Castiel thought he had let go, that he had move past this, but the pain the memories bright him is fresh. It’s new and it feels like it’s hollowing out his chest all over again, picking at the scars that had healed. He doesn’t realize – doesn’t care – that he’s crying into Balthazar’s shoulder or that he’s close to singing his pain for the whole colony to hear.

The song starts again and the memories return once more. His siblings hold harder, but the next sob catches in Castiel’s throat. A profound silence fills the colony. Even without being connected, Castiel knows that no one is speaking or sharing their emotions. Anna and Balthazar go still around him. It’s the same song, playing no different than it did only minutes ago, but now it’s _different_.

Something else plays around the notes of Castiel’s voice, twanging and plunking and melding with the tones like no voice ever could. This new sound plays under and around the recording of Castiel’s voice, complementing it how the bonding-song is supposed to be. But it’s not the right response. It’s a whole new answer that curls around the bonding-song, buoying it beautifully.

Castiel knows the sound. He knows what makes it and he can picture the instrument almost perfectly in his mind. It feels like his heart has stopped, like his gills don’t flutter anymore, like the entire ocean is holding still while it fills with the trembling combination of Castiel’s voice and Dean’s guitar.

The only people who know that the bonding-song was incomplete, that there was more to it, were Dean, Sam and Jess. Only they knew. And Dean plays the guitar and – it’s Dean. It’s Dean on the other end of that song. It’s Dean and he’s not only playing Castiel’s song, he’s _replying_ in his own unique way.

“ _Dean_.” Castiel hisses against Balthazar’s shoulder and both his siblings flinch.

That song ends and there’s a few moments of silence before the new one starts again. This song is solo, just like the first. Castiel holds still, wrapped in the care of his siblings, as it cycles through the solo and the reply.  They only move when Michael arrives but Castiel isn’t paying attention, he’s focused entirely on the reply and can’t stop thinking about what it just means. He layers walls around his mind to keep out the questing touch of Michael’s thoughts.

If Dean is saying ‘yes’, if Dean is saying that he wants to be Castiel’s bond-mate – it sends _warmth_ pulsing through his veins. But if Dean really has come back for him, what is Castiel supposed to do? Is he going to leave with him or is Dean going to stay? The colony can only guess why a two-tails would have a copy of the bonding-song, but they’re probably guessing right.

Chances are the entire colony knows now what Castiel has been hiding from them for over five seasons. If they don’t kill him for this, then they’ll likely exile him. In any case, Castiel won’t be able to stay here. And if he can’t stay here, then he should go with Dean. Or at least he should go and see Dean, talk with him and find out just what he thinks he’s doing coming back after all this time.

And that’s when it hits him. The ghost-song has been around for almost more than a season. Dean might have been here longer. Dean came back for him sooner than this and he’s been searching all this time, sending his reply into the deeps and hoping beyond hope that Castiel would still be here, would still want him, would forgive him.

Castiel can’t go straight up. He needs to go at an angle to avoid the shelves above his. His siblings shout his name and he ignores it. The webbing between his fingers billows as it catches at the water and Castiel swims as fast as he can. He’s a fast swimmer, but he’s not the fastest in the colony and someone could try and stop him. They should. He hears more shouting and what sounds like a fight but he doesn’t stop to turn back and check, he keeps going.

He follows the song until it’s so loud it’s shaking through his very bones. Castiel finds the speaker, swinging in the currant and he follows it to the boat. It’s so much smaller than any boat he’s seen. It’s even smaller than the ones that had been fleeing from Lilith’s sinking boat. He thinks only a few people would be able to fit on this one – no more than four. Five at the most. 

The closer Castiel gets to the surface, the more he angle’s away from boat. He wants to be able to see the deck – see who might be on the boat – without breaking the surface. When he stops, he’s disappointed to see that the front half of the boat is covered. There is a sheet of glass that rises up in the middle and the back of the boat is empty, including the small swim-deck that dips in and out of the water with every wave.

This is not a boat designed for capture. And there are no others in the vicinity. Castiel can see the islands in the distance, taking up most of the horizon. They’re no further out than the colony, half a day’s swim if you’re not pushing yourself.

He waits. Castiel holds the amulet tight with both hands and he waits.

Something nervous twists in his stomach, thick with anticipation and it claws its way into his throat. He wants to see Dean. With his song echoing all around him, he wants the validation of _knowing_. If it’s Dean, they’re going to talk. Castiel has no idea what they’re going to talk about, but he wants to. Even if it’s just for the proper closure he never got.

The song ends and starts again while Castiel waits, his echoes fading without coming back. No one from the colony followed him – at least not yet – but it _is_ worrying.

It’s not until the song is restarting for a fourth time that someone comes out from under the covered front of the boat. Castiel would recognize Sam from his height and hair alone without ever having to see his face. His heart stop-starts, skittering against his ribs and making his whole chest ache. Sam holds his hand up to shade his eyes as he looks around, scanning the waters and Castiel knows what he’s looking for but he doesn’t reveal himself, not yet.

Sam is talking. Castiel can see his lips moving, but for all that he knows, it could be Jess that Sam is speaking to. A few minutes later and Castiel stops breathing entirely as the person Sam is speaking to comes out too.

 _Dean_.


	40. Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watches Sam turn to face Dean and shake his head. Dean shakes his head too and turns to look out over the water himself. For one delirious moment, Castiel thinks about showing himself, about flicking his tail once to push his head above the water. He thinks about twisting onto his stomach and swimming to the boat, back-fans breaking the water to show Dean that he’s there.
> 
> Castiel doesn’t move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: thelittearchangelthatcould, crzydemona, wimey, blueeyesandangelwings, equiano-lockwood, artcicles, cristality, salt-and-leather, rockinthecassbutt, feathersandtrenchcoats, samandrien
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

Something _hot_ surges through him. It starts in Castiel’s chest, burns through his stomach and spreads to the tip of his tail. His adipose fins ripple wildly and the spines of his fans flex nervously. The pendant caught in his hand digs into his palm and it hurts, but he barely feels it.

Dean is standing next to Sam at the back of the boat. He’s wearing a hat on his head like Bobby. His shirt has no sleeves and Castiel can’t see his pants, hidden by the wall of the boat and the angle Castiel is watching from. His skin looks darker than Castiel is used to seeing and he remembers Dean saying that too much time under bright-pearl will do that. Has Dean been spending a lot of time outside?

He watches Sam turn to face Dean and shake his head. Dean shakes his head too and turns to look out over the water himself. For one delirious moment, Castiel thinks about showing himself, about flicking his tail once to push his head above the water. He thinks about twisting onto his stomach and swimming to the boat, back-fans breaking the water to show Dean that he’s there.

Castiel doesn’t move.

Sam leans over the side of the boat and tugs at a rope hanging into the water. Curiosity has Castiel moving, sinking and twisting back down so he won’t be noticed as he approaches the boat from below. He recognizes the straight chain of an anchor sinking down into the deeps, but there is another rope too and he follows it. The deeper he goes, the louder his bonding-song – mixed with the sound of Dean’s guitar – gets. It’s so loud that it hurts his head and Castiel narrows his side-fans as much as possible to catch as little sound as he can as he covers them with his hands.

He gets close enough to the end of the rope to see the black box hanging from it before he is forced to turn away. It’s so loud that the very sea is vibrating with every note, reverberating through Castiel’s whole body. This song is going to cause so much trouble for him and his colony. There are so many fin-kin disturbed by it playing that Castiel needs it to stop now. The only way to get it to stop is when Sam and Dean leave at the end of the day, or if Castiel asks them to.

Castiel steels himself and turns around again, swimming for the rope and the black box – he remembers it’s called a ‘speaker’ – hanging from it. The rope has a thin black cord wrapped around it and it trembles under his hand when he grabs it. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s so close to the source of the song, or because he’s going to see Dean – and Dean is going to see _him_ – that makes his heart beat harder than it has in seasons. He can’t remember the last time he felt so nervous, or so unsure, or so _excited_.

The song cuts out not long after he starts moving the speaker and Castiel turns to rise at an angle again. He nears the surface the same distance away as before and he watches from a distance as both Sam and Dean lean over the edge of the boat. Dean isn’t wearing the hat anymore and Castiel can’t tell if he looks excited or scared. He looks like Castiel feels. Sam is doing something to the rope behind the wall of the boat while Dean is pulling it in. Every few pulls, Dean looks up, searching the waters and biting his lip.

Something aches behind Castiel’s sternum. Dean is looking for _him_.

The slack in the rope is quickly being reeled back into the boat. Castiel dives to approach the back of the boat and the swim deck on it without being seen. He might be able to put the speaker on the swim deck without them noticing that he’s there. As badly as he wants to see Dean, wants to sink into Dean’s thoughts again and see if Dean still feels the warmth he once did for him, Castiel is _terrified_.

What would he say? What would _Dean_ say? Why is Dean even here? It’s been so many seasons, why is he back _now_? Why would he use the bonding-song, of all the songs Castiel sang, to play in the water? So many questions, too many questions. And the answers to all of them scare him. He’s not sure if he wants to know their answers.

Castiel hasn’t thought this through. He needs to _think_ first. His colony’s safety needs to come first and having two-tails so close to them is going to make them panic. Already he’s regretting letting his emotions fuel his actions and leaving the colony as he did. Michael might not let him come back now. Metatron and Raphael will be able to use this against him, will be able to convince the council and the colony that Castiel led the two-tails to the colony. They might even end up moving.

Anger starts to form in the pit of his stomach. Dean should have known better than to do this. Castiel had told him multiple times that the colony’s safety is paramount. He warned him of how careful they are and now, with this single act, Castiel could lose everything. It doesn’t matter that nearly six seasons ago he was ready to give it all up for Dean. That was then and this is now.

Now Castiel knows that even without Dean he can be happy. He may always miss that piece of his heart that he gave to Dean, but he can still live on and he can still be happy with his colony, with his brothers and sisters, and his nieces and nephews. He once thought that he _needed_ Dean to be happy. But now he sees the difference, between need and want.

Meeting with Dean, talking with him now, is starting to seem less and less like a good idea. He’s angry with himself now for not thinking properly. He’s angry with Dean for not listening and for turning his life on its head yet again. Perhaps it would be best that they don’t speak at the moment. As much as that pains him to think, it’s true. Their first contact after so long shouldn’t be tainted by this anger. And Castiel needs to go back and calm the colony.

Moving as quietly as he can, Castiel breaks the waves behind the boat. Sam’s back is to him and Dean isn’t looking this way. The very back of the boat is hiding him anyway. Castiel places the speaker on the swim deck before he swims away, diving and rising to watch from a distance again.

Dean stops pulling on the rope when it comes out of the water and the rest of it clearly goes toward the end of the boat. He stumbles around Sam to the back and Castiel can almost clearly see Dean’s face fall. His chest aches at Dean’s clear disappointment as he lifts the speaker and hands it back to Sam blindly. Dean runs his hands through his hair, looking more frustrated than Castiel has seen in a very long time.

Castiel feels bad for causing him this pain. Dean came all this way and he’s been searching for him for at least a season. He could have been looking for longer than that. Something tight settles in his throat and Castiel starts to turn away. He needs to go back to the colony and make things right with them. He’ll need to explain that it is only his friends and that the boat is too small for them to be here to capture any fin-kin. It also means that he’s going to need to tell them _why_ he sang a bonding-song to a two-tails. If Dean is serious, he won’t let this stop him. He’ll be back – or at least, Castiel hopes he will be.

The splash has Castiel stopping, his insides freezing and his gills stuttering around his next breath. His fans flare in surprise and he turns back slowly, prepared to see Dean in the water and yet his heart still twists and Castiel has to fight the urge to swim to him. Dean is shirtless and wearing his swim-shorts, hands paddling to keep himself from floating as he looks around.

He’s not far enough away that Dean won’t be able to see him. He’s close enough and Castiel knows the exact moment that Dean sees him. He sees it in the way he stills and the stream of bubbles that escapes his lips. It’s no surprise that he kicks to the surface immediately, but there’s no way he could have gotten enough of a breath to stay down for long when he ducks back under almost as soon as he breaks the waves. Castiel realizes too slowly that Dean doesn’t want to risk losing sight of him, he doesn’t want to risk that Castiel will swim away.

Castiel isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light, but it looks like there are marks on the sides of Dean’s legs. He’s too far to make them out clearly, but he still hesitates to swim closer and Dean doesn’t move from beside the boat either. Dean starts off smiling, wide and bright and he looks so _happy_ to see Castiel again. Dean looks like how Castiel feels. But Castiel is barely breathing, let alone smiling, and he’s certainly not moving.

Dean stays near the surface, close enough that he only has to lift his head to take a breath. It reminds Castiel of the day he had been angry enough to not go to Dean when he was in the water and Castiel was holding onto the anchor chain. It was the day before Dean’s headache, the day before everything was _ruined_.

The press of thoughts against his mind surprises him. For a moment, Castiel thinks that Dean has somehow learned to start the kin-connection himself. But the touch is too familiar, one that he’s known his whole life. It isn’t Dean and Castiel winces when Raphael’s thoughts burst through the kin-connection. They’re filled with distrust and betrayal, rage and hurt.

The kin-connection is too strongly linked. Raphael should be far away and he shouldn’t know where Castiel is, let alone be able to make the link with him. Castiel’s fins ripple and he turns around, chirping his echoes to find Raphael before his eyes do. It’s entirely unnecessary. Raphael is almost directly behind him and he looks _furious_. Even this close to the surface with bright-pearl high in steady-blue, Castiel can make out his aggressive glow. All of Raphael’s fans are spread as wide they’ll go and his fangs are bared around a growl, a sword held tightly in his hand.

 _(Raphael –)_ Castiel starts, holding up his hands to placate him. _(Raphael, please. Calm yourself. These are my friends – green-eyes and tall-one. They’re the ones who helped me to escape.)_

 _(Get back to the deeps and pray to mother-sea that you won’t be killed for this betrayal.)_ Raphael’s thoughts are cold and cruel, stabbing into Castiel’s mind as if they were the weapon he holds. _(You will not put the colony at risk any more than you already have.)_

Castiel’s mind clears and a battle calm settles through him. He shakes his head slowly. _(Their floating-reef is too small for them to be here for anything more than a visit. They don’t know where the colony is. I’ve had the kin-connection with them both. Neither of them would bring any harm to any of us.)_

Raphael snarls and grabs Castiel’s wrist, jerking him forward and behind him. _(I won’t give them the chance. Our home is a good one and you are not going to cost our colony it.)_

The realization strikes Castiel hard enough to knock the breath from him. His battle-calm is only strengthened by the sudden _fear_ and protectiveness that fills him. Castiel twists his wrist free and darts forward, circling around Raphael to place himself between him and Dean. He has no weapons beyond his claws and fangs, but he’ll fight till his last breath. Even though Raphael gave up being a warrior a long time ago to be one of the constants on the council – like Gabriel and Metatron – he is still a formidable fighter and he is the one with the sword.

None of that matters when Raphael is threatening _Dean_.

Castiel’s growl rumbles in his chest and throat. _(You will not touch him.)_

He’s dimly aware that a handful of other fin-kin are approaching. They’re too far for him to be able to determine from sight alone whether or not they would aid him or if they would be on Raphael’s side. All he knows is that Dean is in danger and he needs to get out of the water and get to safety. While he and Raphael face off, sizing each other up for who will make the first move, Castiel reaches behind him with his thoughts and finds one of the two minds there.

 _(Dean is in danger. You are_ both _in danger staying here. Get him out and_ go _.)_ Castiel presses the warning into Sam’s mind, filling it with all the concern that he can.

Sam’s surprise echoes through the kin-connection. It’s familiar and nostalgic and Castiel wishes he could hold on for longer, to talk and catch up, but he can’t. Not now – maybe not ever. He wasted his chance to get to speak with Dean again and he might not get another one. The splashing and the loud voices above the surface are enough for Castiel to know that Dean is going to be safe.

 _(You_ warned _them.)_ Raphael hisses, swinging his sword angrily through the water to punctuate his words. His thoughts are filled with disgust and Castiel remembers that after his return Raphael had been the one the most upset that he had made the kin-connection with a two-tails in the first place. He didn’t care that without it Castiel would have gone mad by the second rotation.

 _(They_ saved _me.)_ Castiel’s growl grows louder. _(I will_ not _let you repay their kindness with harm.)_

 _(Then explain to me why the ghost-song is the song of bonding. Explain to me why the two-tails had you sing_ that _song.)_ He lowers his sword but it doesn’t make him any less threatening. _(Who did you sing it to, Castiel?)_

The propeller blades under the boat roar to life and both Castiel and Raphael flinch as it starts to move away. Castiel doesn’t know what else to say to the kin-connection with Sam. He lets a curl of regret flicker through – because he does regret not taking this chance to talk to them, to talk to Dean. If he survives Raphael’s wrath, and the colony’s upset over this situation, there’s no guarantee that he’ll be able to see them again after this.

Worst of all, he realizes Dean might think that he didn’t want to see him again. Castiel had left the speaker on the swim deck and swam away without saying anything. He even made the kin-connection with Sam instead of Dean. But the first thing they say to each other in six seasons shouldn’t be _that_.

He isn’t expecting the images Sam fills his head with, lined heavily with Sam’s urgency. Sam doesn’t need words to tell him that he wants Castiel to remember these images. Castiel memorizes them as they come, storing them in the corner of his mind that he reserves for all his memories of his time with the two-tails. Sam keeps repeating them until the kin-connection snaps from distance.

This is the third time Castiel has had to watch Dean leave him on a boat.

Anna and Balthazar head the group that approaches them. Michael and Lucifer are not far behind them and there are a few other warriors Castiel recognizes from more than one garrison following them. Castiel opens his mind completely to accept the kin-connection with them as well. When they get close enough, Castiel notices that they all bear scratches and bruises. He turns to swim to them, but his way is blocked by Raphael, a cold sneer on his lips as he points his sword at him.

_(You’ve betrayed the colony.)_

Castiel growls and draws away. _(I did no such thing.)_

 _(Raphael!)_ Michael’s thoughts fill the kin-connection. He swims ahead of the others and reaches Castiel and Raphael first. _(Lower your weapon. This is a matter for the whole council and will be continued in audience of the colony.)_ Michael puts his hand over Raphael’s  and forces him to lower his sword.

It looks like Raphael wants to object, but he doesn’t do anything more than glare. The swim back to the colony is not a fun one. The silence between them all is tense and heavy for the first bit of the way until Balthazar’s thoughts touch his. Castiel narrows the kin-connection to just Anna and Balthazar’s minds.

 _(What happened?)_ Anna asks, her question trembling violently with curiosity.

_(It’s Dean and his brother.)_

Balthazar swings closer, brushing his hand against his arm. _(Did you talk?)_

Rather than explaining, Castiel just shares his memories. It’s easier and they both understand when he’s done. Balthazar’s link fills with sympathy while Anna is nearly furious.

 _(He should have known better! Look how much trouble he’s gotten you into!)_ Her adipose fins ripple dangerously and Castiel can see her hands flexing into fists as she swims. _(If you can’t convince the council that they wouldn’t hurt the colony –)_

 _(They’ll be able to tell that I’m not lying when I tell them everything.)_ Castiel sighs. He’s not looking forward to having to announce to the colony that he had an intimate relationship with a two-tails. A relationship where, within a few rotations, he had come to think of Dean as a _bond-mate_. Neither Anna nor Balthazar cared that he was with a male, but the rest of the colony might not be as accepting.

The whole colony is already waiting on the stages around the auditorium – gathered by Gabriel and Metatron, no doubt. Castiel settles on the dais. He’s sat here more times in his life than even some of the oldest members of the colony. This is the first time he’s had actual _guards_ who weren’t his siblings. Anna and Balthazar are barred from sitting by him this time and they are all but forced to sit with Kali and her young ones.

He shields his mind from the rest of the colony, from feeling the emotions of _anyone_. Castiel doesn’t want to have to deal with their appall and their disgust when he tells the colony about his relationship with Dean. But he doesn’t hide his emotions. He shares every last single thing he ever felt while with Dean. He doesn’t hide anything from anyone this time and when he’s done, the silence is overwhelming.

Castiel lowers the walls around his mind to listen to the silence. It’s extremely unnerving. This was not the reaction he was expecting. He’s not sure if it’s just him being blocked from _everyone_ or if no one is actually talking about what he just shared.

Lucifer is the first to speak, and it’s nothing but a command for Castiel to return to his sleep-shelf where he will be guarded. Castiel hates the thought of being confined there yet again, but he doesn’t resist. The guards around the dais are the ones who escort him. He sits with his shoulder to the wall and he hugs the fold of his tail to his chest, one hand folded around the pendant still hanging around his neck.

It was so stupid. He should have let Dean know he was there. They could have talked at least a little bit before Raphael would have showed up. It would have been better than letting Dean thing that he didn’t want to see him. Because Castiel does, he just doesn’t know how to do it or what they would say or what feelings Dean might put into the kin-connection. That alone terrifies him.

The last time he had seen Dean, he had his heart broken. It’s finally been put back together and he tries not to think that Dean came back only to break it again.

He doesn’t really know how much time passes before something lands on the top of his head and slides forward, floating down to the bend of his tail. It’s a sweet-snail shell. The water above him shifts and Castiel looks up to watch Gabriel lazily float down to stretch out on the shelf next to him.

_(Why do they always send you?)_

_(I’m the punisher, remember?)_ Gabriel shrugs, tucking his hands behind his head as he sucks at the shell he has pinned between his teeth.

Castiel twists to sit on the curl of his tail, hands folded in his lap. He resigns himself to whatever Gabriel might say next. If it’s the death sentence, he will probably fight it. He’d rather take exile over that. _(And what is my punishment?)_

Gabriel sits up slowly and spits out the shell. He fixes Castiel with the first remorseful look Castiel has ever seen on his older brother’s face. _(Exile.)_

This level of punishment was expected, but it still makes his stomach sink and his heart drops to take its place. Each breath is hard to take and Castiel’s hands shake in his lap. He can – he can do this. Exile from the colony is better than death. It’s preferred. If he can find Dean again, if he tells him that he was exiled, maybe he can stay with him this time around. Wasn’t that his plan before? Castiel was prepared then. He was prepared to come home only to say goodbye. How has that changed?

Cool hands fold around his shoulder and Castiel looks up, not remembering when he even looked down. Gabriel’s eyes are soft now and he’s just short of actually grinning. _(Your punishment is exile, Castiel, for one full rotation.)_

Castiel’s thoughts stop suddenly and he’s fairly certain that he is staring at Gabriel blankly. It only makes his brother smile wider. _(One rotation and then you can come home. You’ve got a whole rotation to go speak to your two-tails and find out why he came back. After that, you can come home and we’ll decide what to do from there.)_

A tightness that had been squeezing his chest releases and Castiel is flooded with a relief and thankfulness so profound he sags into Gabriel. He clutches at his arms and he gasps every breath against the curve of his brother’s shoulder. It only takes a dozen breaths before he can compose himself and sit back again, pulling away slowly.

 _(What’s going to happen while I’m away?)_ He busies himself with moving the rock that hides his treasures and getting the plastic bag where Dean’s pictures are kept.

 _(We’re going to double the sentries and place a new rotation closer to the surface. If any floating reefs stop near the colony, we’re going to move.)_ Gabriel shrugs and picks up his fallen shell, tucking it against the webbing between his fingers. _(We’ll leave markers for you to follow us if that happens. Or you can stay with your two-tails like you were going to.)_

Castiel puts all his treasures into the bag, wanting to show them to Dean and Sam, and Jess if she’ll be with them. _(Am I allowed to know why this was the decision? I was certain Raphael would –)_

 _(What you shared swayed our decision in your favour. Who knew our little stone-faced Castiel could feel so deeply.)_ Gabriel teases, nudging his shoulder. _(Raphael was the only one calling for your blood. But Anna and Balthazar made very convincing arguments for your case.)_ He stretches out again, tail twitching back and forth over the stone. _(I’m not going to forgive you for not telling me, you know.)_

_(You’re the worst secret keeper in the colony.)_

Gabriel huffs an annoyed breath through his gills. _(Did you know about Kali?)_

 _(Point.)_ Castiel pushes the rock back into place. He takes the necklace off, tucking it into the bag and tying the ends shut to keep anything from falling out. He buckles his belt around his waist too. _(I’m sorry if you felt left out.)_

 _(You’ll know better next time you have a massive secret to keep.)_ Gabriel pushes himself up. _(Stay for a moment, the others want to say goodbye too. They’re just wrapping up the assembly to make sure everyone understands that you used to be in love with a two-tails and you have a weird fetish for them.)_

Castiel crinkles his nose. _(I do not. It’s only Dean.)_

 _(I can’t even tell you how much I do not want to know about that.)_ Gabriel twists to look toward the end of the trench where the auditorium lies. _(Here they come.)_

His goodbyes with the rest of his family are long and drawn out. Castiel promises again and again that Dean and Sam are not here for the colony and that he’ll explain their reasons when he returns. Anna tells him to hit Dean as hard as he can for causing so much trouble and Balthazar makes him promise not to be a romantic sap when he comes back.

Michael warns that Castiel needs to learn all he can about their plans for the colony and that he’s going to have to share all his memories when he returns. Lucifer immediately amends that order to exclude anything that is specific to Castiel’s relationship with Dean.

 _(How are you going to find them?)_ Anna asks while she hugs him.

 _(I’ll find a way, I’m sure.)_ Castiel didn’t tell anyone about the images Sam shared, worried that someone might follow them himself. _(Stay safe, all of you. Watch over the young ones carefully.)_

He leaves them at the lip of the trench and he heads for the surface. Sam’s images start with the islands. Castiel finds a place at the surface where he can see them like they look in his mind. Most of the image is blurry, leaving only one island in stark detail. It’s the one on the far left and that’s the one that Castiel heads for, swimming several tail-lengths beneath the surface.

The images lead him past the light-beds and to the left-most island. Bright-pearl setting by the time Castiel reaches it. He follows the images as they lead him between the islands. If he had gone the other way around the light-beds, he would have passed rather closely to the kelp forests. Castiel checks the surface again after making sure there are no boats in the area.

Sam’s images show a cliff that makes up the majority of this side of the left-island. It’s blurry in his mind except for a break in the walls. Castiel swims until he finds it, having to keep his glow dimmed as much as possible – in case a boat does come by – the entire time. It’s only with his echoes that he finds the crack Sam’s images highlight. The next image is even closer, with rock walls on either side and Castiel thinks that means that he’s supposed to go _through_ the opening.

The break in the rock wall doesn’t go very deep below the surface. If he tried to swim through it, Castiel thinks he might end up crawling most of the way – especially since he doesn’t know how long it would take to get through to the other side. He doesn’t even know what is waiting for him there. Castiel probes the cliff wall with his echoes and finds that there are several breaks underwater where the cliff slopes into the sea bottom.

It takes several attempts – and too many close calls of almost getting stuck – to find an opening that goes deep. It’s just wide enough for him to fit through with a little room to spare, but it requires curling around bends and twists in the path. It will be difficult to turn around and get back out if it comes to a dead end again, but it is big enough that he doesn’t feel confined.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Castiel swims out into open water again. His echoes return to him all too quickly and he realizes that it’s a cove. If he had to go by his echoes, he would say that this inlet is at least a couple dozen tail-lengths across. Maybe even more. There are plenty of fish swimming lazily through the cove and Castiel catches a few, not having eaten all day.

It’s several tail lengths from the middle of the beach that Castiel’s echoes return with several hard objects. They are like the bars that once laid over the top of small-sea. The only difference is that they are as thick around as Castiel’s tail. When he looks above the surface, there is something large and blocky built over the water over these poles.

A path is built, floating on the water, running from the sandy shore to the edge of the pole-block where stairs raise from its end to what seems like a deck that goes around most of the block. There are squares of light all over the lower half of the block and a few on the upper half. A boat – his heart stutters into a faster rhythm when he recognizes it as the boat from this morning – is tied to the floating-path.

Castiel swims closer, approaching from the same side the boat is on. He keeps his head above the water and flares his side-fans, trying to catch any sound. There are start-stop thudding noises – footsteps, maybe – and a gentle humming noise that is nothing like the engines from Lilith’s boat. But Castiel doesn’t hear any voices. He stretches out with the kin-connection, probing into the pole-block for other minds. He finds three and they are familiar.

Instead of forming the kin-connection with any of them, he presses at them. It’s enough of a touch for them to know – if they remember the feeling – that he is here. He pulls away as quickly as he touched them. The thudding noises stop entirely for several moments and Castiel holds his breath, ducking down until only his eyes are above the water.

A flurry of thuds precedes lights above the deck flashing on bright enough to make him wince. He sinks further, hiding under the surface and squinting up at the pole-block as shadows appear in the largest square of light that faces the beach. Castiel realizes it is a door when a line of black slides over it and the shadows move out onto the deck.

Jess’s hair is shorter than he remembers, barely touching her shoulders in pinned back waves of yellow. She moves differently and Castiel is both surprised and disbelieving when he notices her swollen belly. Sam is behind her and directly behind him is Dean. They spread out along the railing that lines the deck, leaning against it and looking out into the cove. Castiel isn’t sure if they can see him or not and he’s struck by that nervous fear again, unable to move and reveal himself like before.

Instead, he sinks further and twists down, trying to disturb the surface as little as possible while he moves to swim around the thick bars under the bar-block. When he breaks the water this time and spreads his side-fans, he can hear their voices directly above him.

“Didn’t I say we should have installed underwater lights?” That’s Jess’s voice and she sounds frustrated. “But do you idiots ever listen to me? No, of course not. Don’t listen to the pregnant lady. She’s _crazy_.”

“He glows in the dark, Jess. Underwater lights would be ridiculous.” Sam says back, sounding just as frustrated. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a regular headache? We’ve all been –”

“If you say it’s because we’re all exhausted one more time, I swear to God, Sam Winchester, I will divorce you this instant.”

There’s a moment of silence. “Stressed. I was going to say that we’ve all been _stressed_.”

“Stressed enough that we all felt a headache at the exact same time?” Jess’s voice it’s getting more strained. “He’s out there. He’s just hiding from us. Castiel!” He flinches and sinks a little ways. “Castiel! You get your scaled butt out here!”

She sounds scarier than he remembers her being.

“Maybe it’s me.”

Castiel sucks in a breath, huffing water through his gills sharply. He never forgot the sound of Dean’s voice, but hearing it again after so long surprises him. It’s deep and familiar and it makes something hidden away deep in his chest ache almost painfully even though he doesn’t know the words.

“Dean –”

“He was going to swim away, Sam.” Dean cuts him off, voice low and quiet. “He put the speaker on the back of the boat without saying anything to either of us. If I hadn’t jumped in, he would have swam away. When he wanted me out of the water, he talked to _you_ , not _me_.” His voice turns hard, bitter. “So what else could it be but _me_?”

“That’s not true.” Sam says quickly. “He was scared, Dean. Scared and angry because that other fin-kin was there to _hurt you –_ us.”

Castiel doesn’t listen to anything else. He doesn’t know what they’re talking about anyway. He slips away under the pole-block toward the floating-path. There are railings running along the side opposite the boat and he goes to that side. He feels bad for being so secretive, but he doesn’t want them to see him before he’s ready to be seen by them. He needs a few more minutes to gather his courage.

After a few moments of deep breathing, he carefully puts his bag on the floating-path so nothing inside gets broken. Castiel uses the railing to help pull himself up onto the path, not bothering to be quiet now. In fact, he makes more noise than this action requires, beating his tail against the floating-path and splashing more than necessary until he gets his tail up and can wiggle his way under the lowest bar.

By the time that he sits up on the curl of his tail at the base of the stairs, the mumbling voices have long stopped. He looks up and Dean is already halfway down the stairs. Sam and Jess are standing together at the top and Castiel’s chest aches to see all three of them.

Dean sits down where he’s standing. It’s hard for Castiel to see his face when the lights are behind him. He stops dimming his glow and forces it to brighten as much as he can. It’s not enough, reaching only part way up the stairs to where Dean is sitting. No one says anything for several minutes.

Castiel doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do. He’s torn between wanting to reach for Dean and not wanting to touch him at all. It’s been six seasons. With how they parted, Castiel has no idea where their relationship stands. Even if he’s forgiven him, even if he still cares for Dean, he still has no idea what to do right now. He’s never had to do anything like this before.

Jess is the one who breaks the silence. “Well, aren’t you going to invite him in?”

Dean starts in surprise and Castiel is painfully aware that he hasn’t stopped staring. Neither of them really has. But it’s hard to hold still under such intense scrutiny. It’s like this morning, except it’s not interrupted with Dean having to break away to breathe. When Dean taps his temple, Castiel knows what he’s asking for and it makes his stomach twist into unsure knots as his heart flutters fitfully against his ribs. Before he can even think of touching Dean’s mind, Castiel shields his own. He hides all of his emotions and he places barriers that will keep him from feeling Dean’s as well.

It’s what Dean might feel that scares him the most.

When Castiel reaches out and touches Dean’s mind, it opens to him as easily as if no time has passed at all. The way Dean holds his body changes too, shoulders relaxing and limbs going limp. Surprisingly, there are barely any barriers in Dean’s mind. Castiel can feel only one, but he has no idea what it could be protecting. He can’t feel Dean’s emotions even though the kin-connection is full of them and he can feel the pressure of them pushing against the walls around his mind. Dean is hiding almost nothing from him and if Castiel wanted to, if he reached in and _searched_ , it’s like he would be able to see – would be able to _feel_ – anything that he wished.

 _(Hello, Dean.)_ Castiel pushes the thought through the kin-connection gently, almost shyly.

Dean takes in a sharp breath and he shifts where he’s sitting on the stairs. _(Hi, Cas.)_

His name sounds different when Dean says it. Balthazar, Anna, Gabriel – even Michael and Lucifer, on occasion – have called him by that nickname and only Dean saying it sends a shiver down his spine. Only when Dean says it does his heart stop-start. It’s been so long since he heard it that something like feels a lot like relief curls through him.

 _(D’you –)_ Dean hesitates and gestures over his shoulder. Castiel thinks, if he was letting Dean’s emotions through, his thoughts might feel nervous. _(Would you like to come in?)_

It would be better if they did go inside. Inside has more light, and it would probably be more comfortable for everyone. Castiel turns around to pick up his plastic bag and he holds it out to Dean. _(I would, thank you. If you carry this, I can manage the stairs.)_

Dean probably meant that he would carry him like he used to, but Castiel is positive that he isn’t ready for that. He’s not sure what he might do if he touches Dean again. At the very least, they need to talk before he takes that step. There is every chance that he won’t be able to let go. For one brief moment, before he shakes the thought from his head, Castiel wonders if Dean is still as warm as he used to be.

When Dean takes the plastic bag, heavy with water, he hesitates and looks surprised. _(Is it okay if I empty the water out of it?)_

He nods and Dean turns it upside down for the water to leak out through the holes around the knot he had tied as he starts up the stairs. Castiel starts to push-pull himself up the stairs. It’s a slow process, but Dean is never more than a few steps ahead of him. Sam and Jess are still waiting for them at the top of the stairs. As soon as Castiel reaches the deck, Jess kneels carefully next to him and wraps him in a surprisingly tight hug.

He forms the kin-connection with her and Sam before either of them can say anything with their throat-voices. Whatever is said, Castiel shares it with the other two links so no one gets left out.

Jess smiles and hugs him once more before standing. _(It’s good to see you again.)_

 _(And you.)_ Castiel smiles up at her and gestures to her belly. He remembers that in human reproduction the females carry the infant for a long time. _(Congratulations. When are you due?)_

She rubs her stomach and leans into Sam’s side. _(A few months. It’s twins and they’re going to be huge. Thanks to_ someone _.)_ She glares up at Sam and he only grins down at her. The teasing is nostalgic and it makes Castiel feel warm on the inside.

He follows them, push-pulling himself through the sliding doors into a room. There is a doorway in one corner, directly across from the sliding-door and Jess says that it leads into a kitchen. Castiel takes a moment to examine the room as all the human words he used to know come back to him.

A ledge with several shelves built underneath lines the wall to the right of the door, extending the whole length of the wall from beside the door to the entrance into the kitchen. There are three tall windows above the ledge. Castiel is able to name the couch that is set up against the wall next to the sliding-door. There is another couch against the far wall and at its end is a door. On the other side of the door is a set of stairs and that looks to be just inside the beginnings of a hall.

The wall opposite the sliding door has a big screen – Sam calls it a ‘TV’ and Castiel only associates it to something like a computer. There is another set of shelves underneath the TV and they have black boxes sitting on them with thick, black strings that run up the wall to the TV. On either side of the shelves are big buckets with plants that Castiel has never seen before.

After the door is shut, Jess and Sam go and sit on the smaller couch against the far wall. Dean is busying himself with some baskets that take up the wide shelves on the wall by the door where Castiel remains seated. He hasn’t completely dripped dry yet and he doesn’t want to try moving around the room in case he gets anything wet.

“Here.” Dean speaks and Castiel is startled, not expecting him to use his throat-voice. He’s holding out a towel he pulled from one of the baskets.

 _(Thank you.)_ Castiel takes it and pat-dries as much of himself as possible.

His plastic bag of things is sitting on a folded open towel on top of the ledge and Dean is drying the outside with one end of the towel. Dean’s movements are slow and from what part of his face Castiel can see, his forehead is creased while he’s looking down at the bag. Castiel gives him back the towel and passes him the belt with his sword and dagger still attached to it when he’s done. Dean leaves them both on the ledge, his fingers lingering on the belt for a moment.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Dean gestures at the bigger couch while he meticulously dries the bag. “You thirsty? Hungry?”

 _(I’m fine, thank you.)_ Castiel slides over the smooth floor and it takes a little effort to pull himself up onto one corner of the couch. He hasn’t sat on anything this soft in many seasons and Castiel curls his tail under him, settling comfortably against the plush cushions. _(I like this couch.)_

“Thanks.” Dean gives him a small smile when he hands him the bag, wrapped in the towel, as he moves to sit on the far end of the couch.

There are a few minutes of awkward silence before Jess sighs loudly and irately. “No, we are not having any of this. We finally get to see you after _three years_ and we’re not going to start it off with a grump party. Castiel, why don’t you tell us about what happened after this morning?”

Dean turns to face him slightly. “Yeah, who was the guy with the sword?”

 _(Raphael. He’s one of the older council members.)_ Castiel picks at the knot at the top of the bag just for something to do with his hands. _(He thought I betrayed the colony because I sang the bonding-song to a human and that I left without a word to follow the song. Oh, that reminds me.)_ Castiel uncurls and leans across the couch to punch Dean lightly in the shoulder. He could do it harder, but he’s still wary to touch Dean. The scandalized and confused look he receives for the action is more of a balm to him than it should be. _(That’s from Anna. For choosing_ that _song and sending the entire colony into a panic.)_

“See? Didn’t I tell you to pick something else?” Sam smirks at the glare Dean sends him.

“If your colony is freaking out, why aren’t you there dealing with them?” Jess asks, disrupting whatever Dean might have said back at Sam.

Castiel gives up on the knot and digs his claws into the thin plastic siding, ripping a hole into it. He can probably get a new bag later. _(Because the council has already met and I’ve been exiled –)_

The combined shock and upset from three separate sources is almost enough to shatter the walls that keep their emotions out of his mind. It cracks the walls enough that he can tell what feelings did it and Castiel looks up at three nearly identical expressions of horror. Dean has gone pale and Jess is starting to get a little red in the face.

Castiel completes the rest of his thoughts before their reactions had interrupted him. _(_ Temporarily _. It’s only for a rotation, and then I can go home again.)_

All three of them relax. Dean opens and closes his mouth a few times before he looks away, glancing around the room for someplace to look at that isn’t Castiel. “That’s – uh, that’s good. I’d feel like worse shit if I got you kicked out of the colony permanently just because I wanted to see you again.”

That nostalgic warmth builds behind his sternum again. Castiel resolves himself and strengthens the barriers that keep out external emotions. _(Why?)_ He looks at Dean pointedly, satisfied when Dean looks at him again. _(Why did you want to see me again? Why did you come back?)_

“And that is our cue to go to bed.” Sam stands suddenly, pulling at Jess’s arm.

“What? But it’s barely nine –” She stops at the look both Sam and Dean give her and she relents, letting Sam pull her up from the couch.

They don’t waste much time with goodnights and they quickly leave, going up the stairs at the beginning of the hall. Castiel cuts the links he has with them. He can hear their footsteps on the floor above. They sit in an uncomfortable silence until the sounds upstairs cease.

Castiel turns on his end of the couch, putting his back to the armrest. _(Why did you come back?)_

Dean mirrors him, drawing his right leg up to fold it on the couch in front of him. His left hangs over the edge, knee bouncing. _(Because I wanted to see you again.)_

 _(Did you stop to think that I might not want to see you?)_ He’s not sure if he did or didn’t. Castiel knows that at first he did. He would have given anything to see Dean again and sort out the mess between them. But it’s been so long now that seeing Dean again only makes him feel confused.

 _(Yeah, of course I thought about that.)_ Dean’s fingers curl in the folds of the gray pants that cover his legs and his jaw goes tight. _(I thought about it every time I pulled the speaker up. I thought about it every damn day that you didn’t show. But would you have come here if you didn’t?)_

With all the walls around his mind, Castiel can easily lie. He shouldn’t, but he does. _(I came become the conditions of my temporary exile are to find out why you’re here and to make sure that you’re not here as a threat to the colony.)_

There is so much more that he wants to know. He wants to know how long Dean plans to stay and who this home belongs to. He wants to know if Dean still cares for him like he once did, and everything that happened since the last time he saw him. He wants to know if all his strange dreams were true like they were with Jess’s pregnancy, and if he can, he wants to know if Dean knows why he was having them. He wants to know why Dean used _that_ song to lure him out.

Dean sighs and rubs both hands through his hair sharply before he looks at Castiel again. “At this point, Cas, I only care about your colony because _you_ care about them. I don’t know them. I’m not even sure if I want to know them – your family, at least, maybe, as long as they don’t try to tear my face off or anything – but that Raphael guy was pretty fucking scary so I’m not in any hurry to meet anyone else.”

Castiel fights not to show any amusement he has at the answer, and he fights off the shiver caused by Dean’s voice. It threatens to make the spines of his fans twitch and spread. _(And my other question?)_

“I already said I’m here because I wanted to see you again.”

 _(You didn’t know where the colony was and you had no way of knowing if we moved or not.)_ Castiel slips his hand into the plastic bag and finds the necklace by touch, holding it in search of comfort. _(You had no guarantee that I would be here. How long were you searching? How long were you going to search?)_

Dean shifts like he’s uncomfortable. “I figured you had to live within a day of the reef where you were caught. Why else would you be defending it from those enemies? You guys are all about territory and it just makes sense that you would defend some place close. Sam and I did the math, figured out the boundaries, and marked it on a map.” An image floats through the kin-connection, showing Castiel what he means. “We broke up that area into quadrants that were just smaller than the limits of the speaker and I would have searched for you until all of those spaces were crossed out. I’ve been searching since… I think it’s been little more than half a year now. Since we finished building the house.”

_(What ‘house’?)_

“This house. My house.” Dean gestures around the room and it’s a wry smile that pulls at his lips. “Took us a year and it was a bitch getting the materials in here. That was half the job, you know. But now I can rent the place out, make it my summer home, or –” He pauses, licking his lips and he suddenly looking unsure of himself. “Or I can live here.”

Castiel’s heart nearly stops and his adipose fins ripple against the couch. It takes a few moments for him to remember the difference in how they count time. _(You’ve – You’ve been here for three seasons?)_

Dean has been so close for so long and Castiel never knew. And Dean said – he said that he can stay? But how did he – why would he – but his family – there are too many questions, too many emotions. Castiel is happy, but he’s also angry. If Dean was here for so long, why didn’t he try to find him sooner? Why did Castiel have to spend so long feeling like _this_ , feeling only half healed?

“A year and a half, yeah.” Dean nods and sits forward a bit. “Cas, Sam said that Jo told you everything. He said that you knew it was all a lie. Is that true?”

All Castiel can do is nod. He’s still reeling from this revelation and now he just feels more confused than when they started talking. Castiel closes his eyes and squeezes the pendant, trying to find his calm. He can’t have this conversation with Dean when he’s feeling so off.

“Cas –”

 _(Start from the beginning.)_ He breathes deep and slow before looking back at Dean. _(We’re going backward. Please, the beginning.)_

Dean makes a face and sits back again, his arms crossed over his chest. _(That’s a long time to go over. It’s going to take a while to explain it all.)_

_(And I have a rotation before I have to go back to my duties.)_

His lips twist in something that might look like a smile, but it is deprecating and Dean only looks frustrated. He looks tired. _(It’s late and I was up with the sun. I don’t want to forget anything and have to go back over it. Can we talk about all of that tomorrow?)_

It has been a long, eventful, and draining day. And Castiel hadn’t slept very well last night. As tired as his body feels, his mind is still turning over and over. He’s not sure if he could sleep, or where he’ll sleep. He knows where he _wants_ to sleep, but what he wants and what he needs and what should be done are all very different things. There’s so much that Castiel wants to talk about right now, but Dean is right. This is a sensitive topic that needs to be discussed when they are well rested.

 _(Cas.)_ Dean reaches across the couch and Castiel flinches before his fingers touch his tail. He immediately withdraws his hand and Dean looks pained, his shoulders slump and Castiel has never seen him look so small. _(I fucked up, I know that. I fucked up worse than anything I’ve ever done and I – shit, Cas, I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did. I lied to you, I pushed you away, I just – I fucked up with a lot of things. And I’m sorry. I never should have – I didn’t_ think _– I’m_ sorry _. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being sorry –)_

 _(I forgave you a long time ago, Dean.)_ Castiel pulls the hole of the bag open wider and takes out the picture-gift. _(I forgave you when I finally opened this.)_

Dean takes another sharp breath and he’s smiling softly when Castiel glances up at him. His eyes are gentle and warm and Castiel wants to slide across the couch and lean into him. He wants to wrap around him almost as badly as he did three years ago. So much time has passed and somehow it feels like no time at all right now.

“I missed you, Cas.” Dean says it quietly and his hand lifts toward him again before he drops it to his leg, fingers twisting and rolling the fabric of his pants. “I still miss you. With how much you’re hiding in the kin-connection, it’s like you’re there but you’re not. It’s – it’s hard to explain.”

 _(I forgave you, Dean, but you still hurt me. I don’t want to be hurt again.)_ Castiel puts the picture-gift down in front of him. He spreads the towel out in his lap and carefully pulls everything out of the bag to dry them all.

“I can take that.” Dean stands and holds out his hand for the empty bag. Castiel gives it to him and Dean takes it to the kitchen. _(You’re protecting yourself, I get it. I understand.)_ Maybe if he wasn’t blocking Dean’s emotions, he might feel his regret. _(What is all that stuff?)_

 _(My treasures.)_ Castiel finds the necklace among the rocks and shells. He puts it on, tying the cord at the back of his neck, before carefully pat-drying the rest.

Dean comes back with a clear box and a blue lid that he offers to him. _(You can put your stuff in –)_ His thoughts cut out suddenly.

Curious, Castiel looks up. Dean is staring at his throat – at the necklace. He looks surprised and confused, his mouth open slightly. Did Dean not know that he had it? Castiel reaches up and touches the pendant. _(I didn’t realize I had it right away. I – Do you want it back?)_

“You wear it?”

He nods, holding it tightly. _(It’s become a source of comfort and calm for me.)_

Dean gives him that soft smile again and shakes his head. “I couldn’t find it anywhere and, actually, I thought I lost it the same day I lost you. You can keep it, if you still want to.”

Castiel’s fans flex, and he ducks his head. _(Thank you.)_

 _(Do you want to sleep here tonight?)_ Dean sits next to him on the couch, closer than before but far enough that they’re not touching. He holds the clear box out for Castiel to put the shine-stones and shells in. _(I mean, I don’t know where we stand, so I don’t know what you’d want to do. I understand if you’d rather sleep in the cove – but you’re welcome to my bed.)_

His fans flare at the suggestion and something hot flashes through his chest and under his scales. Castiel isn’t sure what shows on his face, but when Dean looks up from snapping the box lid into place he nearly drops the whole thing.

 _(Whoa, shit, Cas, I meant I’d sleep out here on the couch! You’d have the bed all to yourself.)_ Dean’s thoughts come in a rush and his cheeks go red, making his freckles stand out in the same way Castiel always found endearing. _(I wouldn’t – I’m not going to – Jesus, I want to, but we – I –_ Fuck. _)_ He makes a frustrated noise and shoves the box into Castiel’s hands more forcefully than necessary. _(Sorry.)_

 _(It’s – I understand. It’s okay.)_ Castiel can feel his own blush and he shakes his head, tracing the edge of the box with one finger.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. _(What do you want to do?)_

 _(I don’t want to steal your bed from you. I can sleep out here, or in the cove.)_ He’s had six seasons to get used to sleeping on rock again. The bottom of the cove is sandy and the area is protected. His biggest danger would be falling rocks from the cove walls. But it would be nice to sleep on something soft again.

 _(You don’t make a guest sleep on the couch, Cas. If you’re sleeping in here then it’s going to be in a bed.)_ Dean stands up, crossing the room to the door at the end of the other couch. _(This is my bedroom.)_

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if sleeping in Dean’s bed – with or without Dean – would be a good thing or not. He doesn’t know what to do. Dean comes back to stand in the doorway to the other room and he leans against the door frame, hands in the pockets of his pants, his eyebrows raised in question. It’s a long way for Castiel to crawl and he has his box of treasures to carry too. He looks down at it.

 _(You want me to carry that? Or… I could just carry you?)_ Dean’s suggestion comes with all the different ways he could carry Castiel.

All of them make his pulse increase because they all mean that they will have to touch. Only one has him carried on Dean’s back – which means he won’t be held in any of the positions he’s been in before where they’ve kissed. He certainly doesn’t feel like push-pulling himself around anymore, and it’s a long process that he isn’t very fast with doing it.

Castiel gestures for Dean to come over, returning the image of the back-carry into the kin-connection. Dean’s surprise quickly slides into a small smile and he crosses the room to him again. He takes the box from Castiel and crouches, turning his back to him. Castiel still hesitates as he sits up on the curl of his tail. Cautiously, he reaches out with both hand and touches Dean’s shoulders. The muscles shift under his palms and Castiel leans forward slowly until his chest is pressed to Dean’s back, his arms curved around his shoulders and he fists his fingers in Dean’s shirt over his chest.

He can feel the heat of him through the back of his sleeveless shirt. Dean hasn’t changed physically, at least not that Castiel can tell. It’s almost like the warmth of his skin is going to burn him through the shirt. Castiel barely breathes and it is a struggle to keep his head up and not lean his cheek against the back of Dean’s neck or to curve his tail around his waist and simple _hold_ him.

Dean covers his wrists where they cross over his chest and he stands. Castiel’s tail slides from the couch to hang down behind Dean’s legs and the end of his tail barely touches the ground with every step that Dean takes. The bedroom has the biggest bed Castiel has ever seen. It’s more than twice the size of the beds he’s been on before and it has at least four pillows piled at the top. The corner of the blanket is pulled back on the right side of the bed.

There is a large window taking up most of the wall that the bed is up against. The wall next to the door has a few low drawers set in it and a wide door at the end of it before the wall ends into some kind of opening. When Dean carries him to the bed, Castiel sees that it is a recessed door.

 _(That leads into the bathroom if you need to go.)_ Dean turns and crouches slowly until Castiel can let go and sit on the edge of the bed. It’s just as comfortable as the couch.

Castiel continues to look around the room, taking in the desk in the corner opposite the wall of drawers. A closed laptop is on it and there are books lining a shelf above it. There are more sliding doors filling the rest of the wall that the desk is against. While he’s looking around, Dean busies himself in the bathroom and he has a spray-bottle in his hands when he comes back.

He puts it on a table next to the bed and starts fiddling with the buttons on a rectangular box that has red numbers on the front of it. _(This is an alarm clock. You just hit this button to stop it from beeping when it goes off. It’ll probably wake me too, so if you can’t do it just call me and I’ll come turn it off.)_

 _(Thank you, Dean.)_ Castiel lays down and everything smells like Dean. It’s a scent he’s long missed and it is intoxicating. It’s everything he missed and wanted, except it’s not really _everything_. Everything else that he missed is slowly backing toward the door.

“No problem.” Dean takes another step back and gestures over his shoulder. “So, I’m just gonna– If you need anything, I’ll be out there. Do you want the door open, or closed?”

 _(Closed, please.)_ It’s what he’s used to and it’ll be easier to defend.

He nods and rocks on his feet. “Okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in the morning and we can talk about all that stuff that you want to talk about then.”

Castiel pulls the blanket up to his shoulder. _(Thank you, Dean. Sleep well.)_

Dean smiles slightly before he turns the light off and closes the door. _(Night, Cas.)_

Instead of cutting the kin-connection completely, Castiel lets it go slack as he would if he was with the colony tonight. The last thing he wants now is to cut the link to Dean’s mind, even if he’s keeping out everything that _is_ Dean. Just having his presence flickering along the edges of his mind is a huge comfort. But it’s not enough for Castiel to sleep. He lays on his side and watches the red numbers of the clock change over and over and over again until the two numbers on the far left become one.

The alarm goes off when the single number flicks to the next one. Castiel slaps at the clock until it stops. He sits up and throws the blanket off to keep it from getting wet and brightens his glow to see the spray bottle. It doesn’t take long to spray his tail or his side-fans, but he can’t properly get at his back-fans. It’s frustrating and after several attempts – one that nearly causes him to fall from the bed – he concedes and pushes through the kin-connection to touch curiously at Dean’s mind. Surprisingly, there is no sleep-fog. He almost pulls back completely when Dean’s thoughts drift against his in a questing touch that echoes his name.

_(Everything okay, Cas?)_

He twists the spray bottle in his hands, nervous to ask. If he could do it on his own, he would. And he doesn’t want to wake Sam or Jess. Dean is already awake and just on the other side of the wall, so he’s the logical choice for this. _(I – I’m sorry to bother you, but I need help.)_

The door opens a few moments later and Dean peeks through. _(What’s wrong?)_

 _(I can’t get to my back-fans. Could you –?)_ He holds the bottle out. Keeping his back-fans from drying out is just as important as the scales of his tail. _(Please?)_

_(Yeah, of course.)_

Castiel passes him the bottle when he comes to the bed and he turns around, stretching his back-fans until they are fully extended. Dean makes quick work of spraying down Castiel’s fans. The only thing that’s different from three years ago is that he doesn’t take the time to rub the water into his webbings. He almost expects the touch but is unsurprised that it doesn’t come.

 _(Thank you.)_ He turns to face him when he’s done. _(I didn’t wake you, did I?)_

 _(I wasn’t sleeping.)_ Dean shrugs and puts the bottle on the side table again. _(I tried, but I’m not used to sleeping on the couch and it’s – I’m too happy having you here again, I guess, even if we’re not – y’know? I don’t know.)_ He shrugs again and rubs at the back of his neck. _(I’ll go and let you get back to sleep.)_

 _(I didn’t sleep either.)_ Castiel pinches and rolls his adipose fin between his fingers, nervous to ask his next question. _(Could you – would you – stay?)_

Dean stops a few steps from the door and he turns around slowly. _(I’ve been here a year and a half already. I’m not going anywhere, Cas.)_

Warmth flushes through him and Castiel squeezes his fin so hard he nearly pokes a hole through it. _(I – I meant right now. The bed is – it’s more than big enough for both of us.)_

“Oh.” Dean takes a surprised breath. “Um, yeah. Sure. If you’re okay with that.”

 _(You’ll sleep better here.)_ He’ll convince himself later that this isn’t because he wants Dean close.

The door clicks shut and Castiel watches Dean walk slowly around to the other side of the bed. Neither of them say anything while Dean climbs into the bed and settles on his side facing him. Castiel lays down and pulls the blanket back up to his shoulders. They lay facing each other and Castiel stubbornly keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to know if Dean is awake and looking at him, instead focusing on the rhythmic sound of his breathing.

It’s several minutes before Castiel is curious enough to open his eyes. Dean looks like he’s sleeping. There’s enough space between them for another person to lay comfortably and it feels like a chasm. Castiel hates it. Three years and he finally sees Dean again, can finally talk to him and touch him and he’s too scared to do it. He hasn’t been _scared_ of anything in seasons.

Castiel reaches across the bed under the blanket. He touches Dean’s elbow first. Dean opens his eyes and Castiel doesn’t look away while he drags the tips of his claws along his forearm until he finds his hand. He lays their palms together and curls his fingers around the side of his hand. Dean grips back tightly and closes his eyes again, a smile pulling at his lips. After a moment, Castiel closes his eyes too.

_(I missed you too, Dean.)_

 


	41. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s talking about the emotions. Everything of Dean’s that he’s keeping out of his head. His heart feels tight with anticipation, but his stomach is rolling with fear. He already went through what they're about to with Dean’s memories, he already know what he felt - the betrayal, the heartache. Is he ready to feel what Dean felt? What if Dean slips up and Castiel gets his current emotions? Would he be able to handle those too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: angel-of-letters, noyoudontunderstandineedpie, kirbyhasapencil, steviecass-art, hyliari, sammysam-winchester, sparkyvanarky, beyonstiel, killingyourlife, seraphlimonade, sherryandgin, blond-demon, bweave-it, oddthesungod
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> **For anyone wondering,[there is a layout](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/post/54164075407/there-is-probably-so-much-wrong-with-this-dont) for the main floor of Dean's house.**

Castiel wakes first and for a moment, he’s confused. His sleep shelf is too soft and there’s no water in his gills. He remembers where he is by the scent of Dean and he can still feel the heat of Dean’s hand against his palm. His heart feels like it’s flipping in his chest when he opens his eyes and finds Dean closer than expected. They’ve both moved during the night.

Another person wouldn’t be able to lay between them now. Dean is on his back, his left hand still between them with Castiel fingers still wrapped tightly around it. His breathing is still deep and Castiel doesn’t want to let go or move. If he does, it might wake Dean and he prefers this moment right now. They don’t have to talk about what happened and Castiel can pretend that this is what they would have been like if Dean hadn’t –

He sighs and turns his face into the pillow. The good feeling is souring in his chest and he can feel the _whywhywhywhy_ swirling into his head again. Castiel tries stretching his tail and he’s horrified to find that he’s curled the end around Dean’s ankle, end-fans spread over his feet. As carefully as he can, Castiel extracts his tail and watches Dean’s face for any reaction. His eyebrows twitch slightly, but that’s it and Castiel twists his tail back to his side of the bed.

The side-fan not pinned to the pillow twitches, catching the sound of footsteps and voices on the other side of the door. Jess and Sam are awake, but he’s not sure if someone is going to come in or not. Their voices might wake Dean and that should be what Castiel is doing, but he doesn’t want to. He likes watching Dean sleep. It’s one of the few times moments when he looks at peace.

He reaches through the kin-connection to find a thick sleep fog around Dean’s mind. When he closes his eyes, their link fills with the colours of his dream-emotions. The walls around Castiel’s mind are currently down and he feels everything. He soaks in the feel of Dean’s emotions, even as distorted as they are by the sleep fog. It would be so nice – it would feel like coming home – to sink into them while they’re clear and bright when he’s awake. But that’s not something Castiel can open himself to just yet.

Dean rolls over onto his side again, facing Castiel, before he wakes up. It’s a hard knock on the door, and Sam shouting that they made breakfast, that actually wakes him. He starts with a yawn and a groan as his fingers flex around Castiel’s hand. It takes him a while for Dean to open his eyes and when he does, he doesn’t look confused. He only smiles and squeezes Castiel’s hand.

“Morning, Cas.”

There’s a rush of joy and relief through the kin-connection before Castiel blocks off the parts of it that transfer emotions. Dean’s smile slips slightly and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. It’s an expression of resign. Castiel squeezes his hand, brushing his thumb along Dean’s little finger.

_(Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well?)_

Dean’s smile grows again. _(Better than I have in years. You?)_

He slept well. It was deep and it’s possibly the most peaceful sleep since – well he knows when the last time he had decent sleep that wasn’t heavy because of exhaustion was, but he doesn’t want to admit it. Not out loud. Not yet. Usually his nights are filled with dreams that leave him troubled and nightmares that have him shaking.

Castiel dips his head in a nod, agreeing with Dean. His eyes slide to their hands and Dean looks too. He knows he does. Neither of them will be able to sit up properly without letting go and it seems like neither of them wants to be the one to let go.

A knock comes at the door again. “Dean, you up?” It’s Jess. She knocks again. “Get your ass out of bed and come get some bacon. We made extra and Sam actually managed to catch a fish.”

Sam’s voice is indistinct through the door, nothing more than a distant rumble. Jess doesn’t say anything until he’s done. “Sam’s asking if Cas slept in the cove last night? He didn’t see him while fishing and he hasn’t made the link with either of us yet.”

 _(I don’t think they know you’re in here too.)_ Dean’s grin turns slanted, amused, and he pushes up onto his elbows. _(They’re going to think we slept together when they find out.)_

 _(We did sleep –)_ Castiel stops at the look Dean gives him. _(Oh. You meant sex.)_

 _(Yeah, Cas, I meant sex.)_ He laughs and looks down at their hands again.

It’s a mutual decision for them to pull their hands apart. Castiel sits up as Dean gets out of the bed. He holds his hands in his lap and flexes his fingers. His skin and scales tingle where he touched Dean. It tingles like it hasn’t done in years and Castiel feels cold again even though the blanket is still covering the rest of his tail. The farther Dean gets from him, the colder he feels.

Dean opens the door while raking his fingers through his hair, yawning a ‘good morning’. Jess lowers her hand and Castiel looks up to see her staring around Dean’s arm at him. He waves and Dean mutters something too quiet for Castiel to hear – but through the kin-connection Dean explains that he’s saying all they did was sleep.

“I’m gonna piss and get the chair from upstairs.” Dean scratches the back of his neck and smothers another yawn before stepping around Jess. “Cas, you should spray down again. Jess, could you help him get his back?”

“Sure.” Jess waves him off and enters the room.

Castiel pushes the blanket away and slides to the floor with a thump. This bed is no higher than the ones he’s been on before. They’ll be able to soak his scales better on a less absorbent surface. Jess reaches the bottle before he does and she empties it while spraying him. His side-fans, back-fans, tail and a large section of skin – she gets everywhere, liberal with the water as she sprays from a distance because she doesn’t bend over very far. Castiel offers to take care of his tail himself, after making the kin-connection with both her and Sam, but she refuses.

When done, Jess gets towels from one of the drawers and drops them around him. She uses her feet to push them into what little puddles have formed. Castiel helps, rolling to sit on the towels and dry the place he’d been sitting. Outside the room he can hear much cursing and several loud crashes. At one point, Dean even shouts for Sam to help him.

Dean comes back to the room pushing a chair that has two giant wheels – one on either side of it – instead of legs. There is something that looks like a wide, thin, kind of bucket attached to the seat and hanging stiffly in front of it.

“Well, she’s not the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever made, but she’ll get the job done.” Dean steps away and gestures at it. “It’s a wheelchair. There’s no risk for your tail getting caught under anything if you curl it in here.” He taps at the bucket part with the side of his foot. “You’ll be able to get around the main floor with this.”

Many realizations come at once and Castiel doesn’t know how to deal with any of them. Dean made something just for _him_. Something that would make it easier for _him_ to get around this house. He did it even though he had no idea if Castiel still lived near this island, if he would ever come here, or if he would even want to stay. But he still did it.

Dean had – has – so much _hope_.

It takes a little effort – and Dean’s hands lifting him under his arms – to get into the chair. His tail curves against the bottom of the bucket, arching back up for the end to hook over the edge. Jess pats him on the shoulder and leaves the room when Sam calls for help to set the table. Dean makes the bed while Castiel experiments with rolling the chair forward and backward as per the instructions that Dean gives with images in the kin-connection. 

 _(Do you mind if I change?)_ Dean steps back toward the sliding doors on the other side of the bed. _(I can wait until you’re out of the room if you want.)_

Castiel accidentally rolls too far back and bumps into the wall. He looks up and Dean is twisting his fingers in the bottom of his shirt without really looking at him. _(I just want to change into some shorts and another t-shirt. It gets pretty warm during the day. We’ll have the AC on, but it’s still Africa, y’know? My underpants will stay on, promise.)_

He holds the right wheel and pushes at the left, turning the chair until he faces the alarm clock. _(Do what you need to. I’ll wait for you here.)_

“Thanks.”

While listening to the rustling of Dean’s clothes, Castiel takes the time to look at the rectangles of pictures mounted on the wall. There are two columns of three next to the window. He rolls closer to the wall to get a better look at them. The column on the left is composed of pictures of Dean with his friends.

Castiel recognizes Benny and Dean leaning against the railing of what is probably Crowley’s boat. The one below that has Dean, Pamela, Bobby and Sam all sitting around a table covered in playing cards – they’re all laughing. The bottom one is Sam, Dean and Jess – with her in the middle. They’re all sitting on an extremely wide chair and they all look like they’re sleeping – Sam and Dean slumped over to have their heads on Jess’s shoulders while her chin is tipped to her chest.

The other three are all of Sam wearing black clothes and Jess wearing a long white dress. They’re standing together and smiling at each other, or at the camera. In one, Jess is holding a bunch of brightly coloured plants.

 _(Those are from their wedding. It was really nice. Wish yo-)_ Dean cuts off the thought and Castiel wishes he didn’t know how it would have ended.

He leans back in the wheelchair and rolls backwards a little ways. _(One of my brothers – Gabriel – had a bonding ceremony too. He has a nest now.)_ Castiel turns the chair so his back is to Dean and he fills the kin-connection with images of his nieces and nephews, providing their names with each face. He can still hear the rustling of clothing and Dean hasn’t told him that he’s done yet.

 _(They’re adorable. If he doesn’t hate my guts, tell Gabe I say ‘congratulations’ the next time you see him.)_ There’s the thump of something solid hitting the wall. _(Okay, I’m done. Ready for breakfast?)_

Castiel turns the chair all the way around again to face the door. He rolls toward it slowly and Dean comes around the end of the bed, stepping up behind him. _(Do you mind if I push?)_

 _(Please. I’m not very good at getting this to move in more than a circle.)_ He lifts his hands from the wheels and folds them in his lap only to grab the armrests when the chair starts forward sharply.

 _(Sorry. I suppose I should have warned you.)_ Dean laughs behind him and Castiel lowers the walls between them long enough to flick irritation along the edges of Dean’s mind. He snaps them back into place before he can feel anything in return.

That nervous feeling starts to twist in his stomach again. After breakfast they’re going to talk and he doesn’t know what Dean is going to tell him about. Castiel isn’t even sure if he wants to know anymore. That’s not entirely correct. Of course he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. If possible, he’d rather have it back to the way it had been before, for those few days that they were _happy_ on Crowley’s boat – before Dean began to doubt their future. A smaller part of him – so small it can barely be heard in the greater storm of his thoughts – wishes that Dean hadn’t come back at all. It might have only been another few seasons until time would have taken care of all his pains.

Dean pushes the chair down the hall, passing the base of the stairs. He explains that the second floor of the house is just four more rooms – two bedrooms, one of which is currently set up for when the babies are born, a storage room, and one that Dean calls his ‘work room’. Next to the stairs is another door and Dean says that it is the bathroom. Another door is in the corner and Dean says that it’s more storage and where all the power in the house comes from. He turns the chair through the opening in the right wall at the end of the hall and they move into the kitchen.

Castiel glances around the room, taking in all the things that Dean names. By the opening they enter there is the ‘fridge’, wide and no taller than the ledge that follows the wall to the corner. There is a sink angled in the corner and the ledge continues along the wall to the other opening that Castiel knows leads into the room with the couches. There is a ‘stove’ near that end of the ledge. Beside the fridge is what Dean calls a ‘dishwasher’. Beneath the entire length of the ledge are drawers of varying sizes and little doors that Dean says are ‘cupboards’.

Jess and Sam are seated on one side of the table set up in the middle of the kitchen. There are empty chairs at either end of the table and one with a space beside it on the opposite side of where they are sitting. Dean pushes the wheelchair to that empty space and the wheelchair is at the perfect height. Castiel is sitting at the same level as Dean when he sits next to him.

The plates are already laid out and waiting. Castiel has slices of fish lined neatly on his but Dean’s plate is empty. There are bowls and plates full of food on the table that Sam and Jess are filling their plates from. Dean thanks them for making the food and starts serving himself too. Everything smells so good and Castiel dips his head in greeting to the others. He murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ when Dean puts a few strips of bacon and two triangles of toast on his plate next to his fish.

Jess breaks the silence. “So how late did you two stay up last night?” She asks around a spoonful of yellow-white mush.

 _(We went to bed separately not long after you.)_ Castiel shrugs, pulling the fish apart with his fingers. He appreciates that they didn’t put down any utensils for him to use. The memory of how unnatural it felt to hold the forks and knives is hazy, but he remembers it and he didn’t like it.

“Except we were still up ‘til two – neither of us slept until after Cas’s spray down.” Dean gestures with a piece of bacon before he bites into it. “Then he let me crash in the bed and I was out like a light. Did you two sleep okay?”

Sam shrugs, chewing on his toast and looking between them thoughtfully. “As well as you can when your pregnant wife keeps kicking you in the shins.”

“Maybe if you weren’t as big a blanket hog as you were a pillow thief, then I wouldn’t be kicking you to give up half the blanket.”

Dean groans and drops his chin to his chest. “So when are you two going back to the mainland?”

 _(You don’t live here too?)_ Castiel looks between all three of them while chewing the toast slowly, endlessly entertained by how it starts out crunchy but turns to mush as he chews.

Jess shakes her head, pausing to take a sip of her orange drink. “Sam and I have our own house closer to our job. We work at Africa’s top marine institute. It’s a little under a day away from here.”

Images rise through the kin-connection from Sam. They’re just like the directions that he’d given that led Castiel here. In the images Castiel moves across the water quickly, as if her were on a boat. It takes him away from the islands and toward the stretch of land that fills the horizon. Sam points out that it takes a few hours by boat to get to the nearest marina. From there, they have to ride in a car for nearly a whole day to reach the city where they live.

“We come out here for three or four days every month.” Jess continues and she tilts her head toward Dean. “To visit and give this loner some company.”

“I’m not a loner.” Dean mumbles, making a face at her while one of his cheeks bulges with food. “I take the boat to town once a week for supplies. The shopkeepers even know me by name now. I’ve just had better things to do than socialize.”

 _(Like what?)_ He turns in his seat to look at Dean, curious to know what he’s been doing.

Dean glances at him once, a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, before taking several long sips from his own glass of orange drink. He doesn’t give an answer and Jess huffs, rolling her eyes.

“Looking for _you_.” She says it with a small smile, somehow both soft and teasing at the same time. “Weather permitting, he was out there playing that song for you to hear him for the last six months. Before that he was helping what few contractors would actually come out here to build this house. Once the framework and electrical was in, you did the rest, didn’t you?”

“Most of it.” Dean nods and he looks embarrassed, picking at his food. “I had someone come in to do the finishing touches and Sam helped move the furniture in.”

“I’ve known you for nearly eight years, Dean.” Jess starts, her voice turning firm even as her expression softens. She leans further over the table. “In all that time I have never seen you more devoted to anything than you –”

“Jess.” Sam says sharply and she falls silent, looking frustrated. She turns a glare on him and chews at her bacon almost angrily.

 _(Sorry – that’s for us to talk about after this.)_ Dean’s thoughts slide into the kin-connection slowly. Hi thoughts seem more embarrassed than he looks, but Castiel can’t tell without the emotions to go with them. _(I think she’s been more frustrated than I was every time I came back empty handed.)_

 _(By ‘empty handed’ you mean ‘without finding me’.)_ He doesn’t ask it. Castiel already knows the answer. His next thoughts are broadcasted into all three links. _(How do you stay in contact outside of these visits? Phones?)_

“With the laptop. There’s a program on it that is like a phone, only it’s pictures instead. Like looking through a window at each other over a long distance.” Dean explains, starting to eat again. “I called them with it every night when I got back from searching.”

“We wanted to know as soon as possible if – when – he found you.” Sam picks up after Dean immediately and pours himself some more orange drink. “We had bags and everything ready just in case he ever called and said he’d found you, so that we could come out here immediately.”

_(Why?)_

“If he’d found you and you dumped his ass, we were going to comfort his broken heart. Otherwise, we’d have come to see you and catch up on three years.” Jess shrugs. Her plate is empty and she stands, taking it to a tall bucket with a lid next to the fridge. She steps on a piece sticking out of the bottom and the lid lifts. Castiel watches, curious, as she scrapes the plate completely clean before putting it in the dishwasher. “It really depended on the call we would have received.”

Dean makes little huffing noises and he takes the last piece of bacon from the bowl in the middle of the table. Sam shrugs too and gives Castiel a look that he reads as ‘this is what I have to deal with’. It’s a look he saw many times so many season ago and it’s nostalgic. Castiel can’t help but smile, feeling it tug at the corners of his mouth.  

“We’ll finish cleaning up, Jess. You still have that report to write.” Sam stands up and starts stacking empty dishes onto his.

“I hate reports.” Jess crosses over to where Castiel is sitting and pats his shoulder again. “No matter what happens during your conversation with Dean, you’re not allowed to leave without saying ‘goodbye’, okay? I’ll see you later.”

That sounds more foreboding than Castiel thinks she meant for it to be. He glances at Dean for his reaction, but Dean is already on the other side of the table to help Sam clear the dishes. Jess leaves them to clean in silence and Castiel fights with the wheels of the chair to roll back from the table.

“What are you doing, Cas?” Dean looks up, forehead folded in confusion.

 _(I want to help.)_ He gets back far enough that he’s able to move the chair around the corner of the table. _(I can put the dishes into the dishwasher or clean them into this – this – what’s it called again?)_

“Garbage can.” Sam supplies. He holds out a plate and gestures at the dishwasher. “Thanks for helping.”

Castiel puts two plates into the bottom rack, lining them up like the others already there, before he catches sight of Dean’s legs. He hasn’t seen Dean’s legs properly this morning, not while he’s wearing the shorts. And now that he sees them, he remembers the faint marks he’d seen while Dean was in the ocean yesterday morning.

Today they are not faint. Today he can clearly see six large, blue, solid circles that gradually get smaller as they go from just below the back of Dean’s knee to the back of his ankle. Starting just above the first circle, and between the first few circles, there are three solid bands of blue. The design is mirrored on the back of both of his legs.

It’s a familiar pattern. One that he’s seen his whole life. Dean’s shorts are rolled up at the ends to rest above his knees and it’s clear that there is no more to the design. But Castiel _knows_ that what he sees on the lower half of Dean’s legs is the same as what he sees whenever he looks to the end of his tail.

Dean has his back to Castiel. He’s standing at the sink and taking out the dishes that are stacked in there to pass them down the counter. Sam is taking the dishes from him and helping Castiel fill the dishwasher. Except Castiel isn’t accepting the proffered dishes anymore. Without looking directly at Sam, he still knows the exact moment when Sam realizes what he’s staring at.

“Shit. Dean, you didn’t tell Cas about your tattoos yet, did you?”

“No, why?” Dean turns around and Castiel sees that the same pattern of filled circles is repeated on the front of his legs as well.

“You’re wearing shorts, dumbass.”

“Oh fuck –” He moves closer. _(Cas, I can explain.)_

The shades of blue are a near match to the colour of Castiel’s glow pattern. It’s not an exact match but there is no doubt in his mind that the design on Dean’s legs is _his_. And he doesn’t know how to feel. There’s a heavy, pleased, beat with his heart and it pulses with the dark coils that Castiel long learned to label as possession. Even if his bite mark on Dean’s shoulder has healed by now – and he hasn’t had the chance to check yet – Dean bears Castiel’s own pattern in his colours.

Lucifer has a similar pattern, but he has less circles and bands. There are other colony-kin who carry the circle-band markings – cousins and distant relatives – but none of them are blue and none of them carry the same number of circles or bands. If any of his colony saw Dean’s legs with those markings, they would know it is _his_. They would know that Dean bears _his_ markings. They would know that Dean is _his_.

His adipose fins ripple against the wheelchair and his fans flare. The back of the chair stops his back-fans from spreading, but his side-fans twitch out as far as they’ll go. They catch the surprised sounds that both Dean and Sam make before Dean comes around the dishwasher to stand behind the wheelchair. Castiel twists in the chair, leaning over the arm rest to keep the markings in sight.

“I think we need to go talk now. You’re okay cleaning up the rest, Sam?”

“Of course. Um, good luck. Shout if you need anything.”

Castiel doesn’t stop watching the movement of Dean’s legs and his markings on them as Dean back the chair away from the dishwasher and pushes it toward the couch-room. He likes the markings. No matter Dean’s reason for getting them, Castiel _really_ likes that Dean carries this piece of him. It’s more permanent than the necklace or the pictures that Castiel has. He doesn’t have anything to mark him as Dean’s and – his thoughts end there.

Those are his thoughts from six seasons – three years – ago. He needs to think differently right now. Their relationship may not have had a proper ending, but Dean had tried to end it. Castiel knew he was lying about what happened with Jo. And even though Dean was honest when he said he didn’t want to take Castiel home with him, he knows that somehow Dean was lying about that too. He’d seen it in Dean’s eyes, in his tears and in the pain that he had worn in the moments before he pushed Castiel back into the sea.

It’s clear that Dean wants to be like they were before. Dean has put so much effort into trying to correct his mistakes and prove to Castiel – before he’d even found him – that he wants to stay, he wants to be with him. It hasn’t escaped his notice that the majority of Dean’s house has everything all the drawers and cupboards, even the food, low to the ground. It’s low enough that someone confined to a chair, or the floor, would be able to reach everything with ease.

Dean’s home is already prepared for Castiel and he’s not sure if that’s foolish hope or something else that he can’t quite figure out.

 _(Cas, you’re kind of freaking me out.)_ Dean touches his shoulder lightly and Castiel looks up. They’re at the couch again and the picture-gift is still lying on the middle of the couch. _(You okay?)_

Castiel glances back down at his legs. _(I was not prepared for that.)_

_(I’ve had them for so long I forget that they’re there. I really didn’t mean to freak you out with them.)_

_(It’s – add how you got them to the list of things you’re going to explain.)_ He forces himself to turn away. But that hollow place in his chest is less hollow with every new thing he learns and sees. Castiel still aches. He forgave Dean his transgressions, but if Dean could push him away once, what would stop him from doing it again?

This time, it is Castiel who has the doubts.

“Hold on, I had a note –” Dean starts digging around in the cushions of the couch and checking along the back against the wall. “I was writing on it last night, where did it –”

 _(Are you talking about the notebook by your foot?)_ He points and Dean glances at him first before looking down. There is a book sticking half out from underneath the couch.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He picks it up and flips through a few of the pages first. There is a pen stuck in the spiral that binds one edge of all the pages together. “Do you want to stay in here? Or we can talk outside while you swim?”

_(Here is fine.)_

The house isn’t too cold and it isn’t too hot. When they had been sitting in the bright kitchen, it had been almost too warm – but not in the way that Castiel likes to be warm. He prefers being kept warm with the softness of a blanket and the heat of Dean’s body. If they talk in here, the couch will be more than comfortable for the both of them and if Castiel needs to, he can use the wheelchair to get outside and he can swim until his head is cleared.

Dean shifts on his feet, rocking toward the other side of the couch before hesitating. “Do you want help out of the chair or –?”

 _(I can manage, thank you.)_ It’s not exactly a dignified change of seating, but Castiel does manage to push himself up from the chair and teeter forward to flop onto the couch. He frowns up at Dean’s snort of laughter as he draws his tail up under him. _(What?)_

The images for an easier way of switching seats flicker into the kin-connection. If he had just turned the chair instead of going straight forward, he would have been able to switch seats without any flopping or desperate grabbing for the couch. A blush heats his gills and Castiel huffs, turning to face the TV across the room instead of where Dean is now sitting at the end of the couch. He twists so that his end-fans cover the picture-gift.

“So… Uh –” Dean start and stops a few times, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. Castiel notes, absently, that he still wears his mother’s rings. “Since I couldn’t sleep last night, I kinda made a list of things I should go over. Is there anything that your really want to know about?”

 _(I want to know what happened after you sailed away – with Crowley, with getting back to your home, with what it was like for you to readjust. I want to know why_ _you did what you did, after everything we went through, everything that we decided together. I want to know_ why _none of that mattered in the end.)_ Castiel turns to look at him again and Dean is staring down at the notebook in his hands, his shoulders hunched. He looks small again. Dean looks like he’s fragile, as if one word could break him. _(I want to know what made you decide to come back. And I don’t want the reason you gave me last night. There’s more to it and I want to know it all. Everything, Dean.)_

There is several moments of silence between them after that. It takes half that time before Dean moves again and it’s only to write. When he’s done, he lowers the notebook rests it on his folded leg. It’s the same way he was sitting last night. Even his knee is bouncing again.

“Okay.” Dean says quietly, laying his pen down next to the notebook. “I – Would you open the kin-connection completely? I’m going to give you everything, so that means all the memories, and everything that goes with them.”

He’s talking about the emotions. Everything of Dean’s that he’s keeping out of his head. His heart feels tight with anticipation, but his stomach is rolling with fear. He already went through what they're about to with Dean’s memories, he already know what he felt - the betrayal, the heartache. Is he ready to feel what Dean felt? What if Dean slips up and Castiel gets his current emotions? Would he be able to handle those too?

There are thoughts pressing insistently at the walls around Castiel’s mind. He lifts his eyes back to Dean’s face, not sure when he looked down at his lap to think. Dean looks hopefully. He looks resolved and ready and Castiel needs to know. They need to get this all out of the way again so they can move forward, wherever that may lead them.

Reluctantly, Castiel lowers the walls. The emotion-filled memories flood into the kin-connection, filling the channels that the walls had kept empty. It’s overwhelming and Castiel folds forward, pressing his forehead to the scales closer to the end of his tail and he hugs his stomach. There’s so much _pain_ – heartbreak and self-hate. It’s everything Castiel felt so long ago but this time there’s so much _guilt_.

Concern twists through the storm of foreign emotion, but it’s brighter, fresher. He shakes his head and hugs himself tighter. _(I’m fine. Keep going.)_

Dean hesitates, but then the memories start to flicker through the conversations with Sam and Jess, Crowley and Meg and everyone who had heard about Castiel’s decision to stay with Dean and decided to tell him what they thought about it. Castiel hates every moment of it as the emotions of the memories becomes more and more depressed. When he goes to Jo, Dean is determined that his world is no place for Castiel and that it would be little better than if he had remained as Lilith’s pet.

Castiel doesn’t agree, but he says nothing in return. His thoughts are still separate, waiting for Dean to finish. Dean’s memories skim over seeing Castiel turn away and Castiel can _feel_ how much Dean hates himself for hurting him. But Dean is certain that it was the only way to make him leave. Dean’s hatred for himself is consuming, damaging, and it drives him to Benny and the potent drinks that he has.

The memories get hazy after that. But the emotions don’t stop. As Dean’s thoughts grow heavier and more depressed, he drinks more and more and the clarity of the images lessens. The _fear_ that spikes through the kin-connection when Dean learns about Crowley’s plans rivals the fury that fills him. Castiel’s fans snap wide at the surge of jagged emotions.

Dean descends into a panic focused purely on getting him off the boat immediately. It’s Benny who calms him, who tells him to sit and wait and make a plan. Benny is the one who gets Ellen, who explains everything while Dean gets more and more restless. It’s like an itch in Castiel’s bones and he wants to shut the kin-connection so he doesn’t have to feel it, doesn’t have to experience it. He can’t imagine what it’s like for Dean, having to relive what he said was one of his biggest mistakes.

The memories skitter to a stop and concern fills the kin-connection again. Castiel tries, and fails, not to notice the lack of any other current emotions. It’s for the best, but it still hurts.

_(Do – do you want – We should skip this part.)_

_(No.)_ Castiel takes a deep breath and sits back again. He leans back against the arm rest and grips the necklace instead, searching for his calm. _(I want to know everything. Keep going.)_

Dean’s eyes drop to Castiel’s hand, but he only nods and closes his eyes. His hands fist against his leg and the memories start again. Castiel braces himself for the impact of emotions. The self-hate hits first, followed by panic and determination. It hurts Dean to tell Castiel that he doesn’t want to take him back to his home. The truth in the words is the same as it was the first time Castiel listen to them. This time, he feels Dean’s reasoning behind them.

He does believe the words. To Dean, it _is_ truth. He doesn’t want to take Castiel so far from his family, from the world where he belongs. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel for Castiel the same that he did before. Castiel can feel his heart wrenching at the pain Dean shares with his memories – it hurt him to say those words. It hurt him enough that Dean went numb until he saw Castiel’s face on the wall. And then the pain ruptures the numb cloud that had been surrounding Dean.

It blurs the edges of Dean like the tears and the rain that blur his vision. Dean doesn’t want to let go, he doesn’t want to say ‘goodbye’, but it’s the only way Cas is going to be happy because he can’t make him happy when he’s shit broke and living out of his car, pool sharking for gas and food money and he can’t afford anything as fancy as an ocean side place where Cas can be himself. He’ll only be half of who he is with Dean and he can’t do that to Cas, he can’t take away such a big part of him just because he –  

For a few moments the memories are strong enough that Castiel _is_ Dean. They are so powerful, so painful, filled with so much heartbreak and want and this is the right thing to do but why does it hurt so bad – _Cas, I don’t want to let you go –_

He severs the kin-connection and Dean matches his startled gasp. Castiel folds over again and breathes raggedly against his scales. The necklace isn’t working. There’s no calm to be found in holding it and Castiel is lost in a storm of the remnants of Dean’s memories. He’s forgiven Dean for this. He’s forgiven and moved past it, but Dean hasn’t. It’s still fresh and painful for him and he hates himself for it. Those moments still haunt Dean and it was almost more painful for him than it was for Castiel. He hasn’t forgiven himself.

A voice is speaking distantly but Castiel can’t hear it. The emotions are still holding him, still hurting him and they don’t let go until hands grip his shoulders and force him to sit up. Castiel doesn’t realize there are tears in his eyes until the world is swimming in his vision. One of Dean’s hand is cupping his face, thumb brushing the scales over his cheek, fingers rubbing at the base of his side-fan. His other hand is cupping Castiel’s elbow lightly.

“C’mon, breathe, Cas. It’s okay.” Dean keeps murmuring gentle words and some of them even make sense – the more he hears, the more he remembers. His eyes are red-rimmed too and Castiel’s chest aches with the urge to curl around Dean and comfort him. “You wanted everything, Cas. You would’ve been pissed at me if I held anything back – but I didn’t know you were going to react like that. I’m sorry.”

Castiel pulls away from Dean’s hands to wipe the wet from his face. He takes another few shaky breaths before he can look up at him again. The concern and the care is there. Everything that Castiel used to see is still there in the softness around his eyes and Castiel’s resolve to keep his distance – emotionally and physically – starts to slip.

With the barriers protecting his emotions for the kin-connection, Castiel reaches for Dean’s mind again. There’s nothing but concern washing through the link in rolling waves, but the kin-connection still feels empty without the constant pulse of warmth it used to have. Castiel can feel one wall protecting some part of Dean’s thoughts and feelings, and he can’t help but wonder if Dean still feels that warmth for him and if he does, why is he hiding it when every other part of him is laid bare for him to see?

 _(You okay?)_ Dean tilts his head slightly, catching Castiel’s eyes. _(I didn’t –)_

 _(I’m fine. That was just – I was caught unprepared, again.)_ He leans back into the armrest again, putting space between him and Dean before he gives in and leans into the solid heat of his body.

Instead, he shifts until his tail is curled between them, a physical barrier. Dean’s expression changes. There’s a flash of disappointment in the kin-connection before resignation settles like a stagnant fog. He shifts back from the middle of the couch and Castiel doesn’t know when he moved. Dean folds his knee to his chest and loops his arms around his leg to keep it there. Castiel realizes, belatedly, that the picture-gift is no longer where he left it.

 _(I moved it when I moved closer because you weren’t answering me. It’s on the back of the couch.)_ He gestures with a tilt of his head and Castiel looks only to check.

The collection of pictures is facing out and Castiel doesn’t know if Dean set it that way on purpose or not. Castiel leans over and turns the picture-gift around, showing the picture of them leaning together. Surprise flickers through the kin-connection and it flares brightly when Castiel uncurls his tail enough for the end to brush along the edge of Dean’s foot to curl around his ankle. It’s a light touch, but Castiel’s scales burn with it – the heat flaring up his tail and his adipose fins ripple in its wake.

Dean doesn’t move. It looks like he’s barely breathing, but delight swirls through the kin-connection. This small touch makes Dean happy enough that it blankets everything else in their link. He’s watching the movement of Castiel’s tail, and after a few moments, he flexes his toes against his end-fans. It’s the only movement he makes, as if he’s scared that anything more will make Castiel take the touch away.

Castiel wraps his arms around his stomach again and closes his eyes to brace himself for the new memories. _(Please continue now.)_

There is only a moment’s hesitation before the memories start again, flowing into the kin-connection. The emotions are dulled now, not nearly as potent as they were before. Castiel knows Dean is doing it on purpose and he’s grateful for it. He’s not sure if he could have handled feeling everything so strongly again.

Dean starts drinking again. The memories of the following days are so blurred and heavy, messy with the pain and the loneliness that Dean felt then. Most of the memories don’t make sense and Castiel soon realizes, as the memories skip along, that Dean is inebriated almost constantly in the memories.

 _(My head was empty.)_ Dean speaks over the memories and Castiel opens his eyes, but Dean isn’t looking at him. His chin is resting on his knee and his eyes are focused over Castiel’s shoulder. _(You’ve lived your whole life having other people in your head, and I bet it was lonely as hell when you woke up on Lilith’s boat and there was nothing, right?)_

He nods, letting his confirmation flicker into the kin-connection. Dean’s memories don’t stop while they talk. Whatever is happening in them, Castiel doesn’t know what it is. It’s something that looks almost like the trails that the council holds – except there is only one person sitting higher than everyone. There are people standing or sitting around that person and everyone else in the room is facing them.

Dean is sitting in a crowd of people, all sitting in rows facing the front of the room, but Sam and Jess are standing behind on the other side of a low wall that separates part of the room from the crowd of people. Crowley is on the same side of the wall, but he is standing behind a different table and Castiel doesn’t recognize the humans standing with him.

 _(Before I met you, Cas, I lived my whole life being the only one in my head. It always felt too big, too dark. And then you came in and you were like – I can’t even explain it. You made my head feel – you made_ me _feel – My head wasn’t a lonely place to be anymore.)_ Dean’s eyes shift, looking at him again. _(It was worse after I made you leave. I couldn’t stand how_ empty _my own frikken head felt. And the only way I could get it to stop feeling like that was to drink.)_

Castiel doesn’t know what to say. He slides his tail around Dean’s leg more, the end twitching over the tattoos. He’s not going to apologize. Dean brought that pain on himself, although Castiel thinks that he didn’t entirely deserve it. It might not have been the best way of doing things, but Dean did what he thought was right and Castiel can’t begrudge him that, not completely.

 _(I couldn’t even keep sober enough for the trials.)_ Dean rubs his forehead and humiliation fills the kin-connection. _(The others had to be the ones who testified against Crowley for being behind the sinking of Lilith’s ship. I don’t think you want me explaining our whole court system – do you?)_

_(No, I can learn about that later if I need to. I just want to know what happened.)_

_(Crowley is locked up and he’s not going to be bothering anyone for a very long time. Turns out that faking a pirate attack on Lilith’s boat wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever done and with Benny, Ellen and Jo taking plea bargains for helping –)_

_(Dean, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.)_

_(Crowley is in jail. Benny, Ellen and Jo got a much lighter sentence. They helped him, but spoke against him in court – it’s like your council – to lighten their own punishment. They’re okay now and I talk to them with the video-phone or exchange emails every few weeks. But the point is, Crowley isn’t going to be able to go after you or your colony.)_

_(What about Gordon?)_

_(He got a huge compensation for traumatic incidents from Lilith’s company. He still hates our guts and tried to punch me out when we saw him, but he can take care of his sister better than ever now so he’s more or less happy. It’s not like he actually liked Lilith or Alistair – he was just doing his job.)_

Castiel frowns, remembering all his moments with Gordon. _(He certainly seemed to enjoy his ‘job’.)_

 _(Yeah, well, that’s because he’s a giant dick.)_ Dean shrugs and slants a grin at him. Castiel can’t help but to smile back too, amused by the imagery he flicks into the kin-connection.

_(How long did this court take?)_

_(The people who defended Crowley dragged it on for over a year. I was better long before it ended, but by then I was busy with other stuff so I didn’t step up to be a part of it.)_

Castiel leans forward, squeezing Dean’s ankle. _(What were you busy with?)_

Dean smile softens and his hand drops from holding his leg in place to touching Castiel’s end-fans. “I’ve gotta go get something. Let me up?”

He withdraws his tail, curling it back under him. Dean stands and goes to the bedroom, but is back within moments, a book in hand. Castiel accepts the book when Dean holds it out to him. There are lines of words on the back of the book and he ignores them in favour of examining the front. The cover is blue, a picture of the ocean from beneath the waves, but it’s grainy and strangely beautiful. What catches Castiel’s attention isn’t the words at the top of the cover. The majority of the image is the silhouette of a fin-kin. The only details are the blue of the glow pattern – _his_ glow pattern.

_(What is this?)_

“My book. It’s called ‘From Below’.” The kin-connection is full of pride as Dean takes the book back and flips it open, showing Castiel the last pages where there is a picture of Dean above more lines of words. _(I was drunk for months – not twenty four-seven, but I rarely went a day without at least a few beers. And one day I woke up at Bobby’s computer with a couple dozen pretty drunken pages written. When I was sobered up, I read them, fixed them, and I ended up writing more. I still drank for a while, but then this kinda – It was – Writing this took over everything and I didn’t need to drink anymore. I changed the names, times, the locations – hell, I even changed some genders around.)_

He grins teasingly and winks at Castiel. _(I’ve got a sister instead of a brother in there. And don’t worry about keeping you guys a secret. This was published as fantasy and different concepts of mermaids have been around for centuries so no one suspects that it’s real events – except for the people who were on the boats, but no one has stepped up to claim that it’s truth. And even if they did, everyone would think that they’re just a fanatical reader.)_

Castiel takes the book back and flips through it. There are no pictures, only words. So many words. _(What is it about?)_

 _(You. Us. Everything that happened.)_ Dean shrugs and sits back, stretching his legs out in front of the couch. _(I didn’t stop writing until I got it all out. Then I changed it up and got it published and I made enough money to afford to build my own house.)_

This ‘money’ concept is still one he doesn’t understand, but he’ll have Dean explain that another day. _(This house?)_

He grins and thumps his heel against the floor. _(Yeah, this house. We got trauma compensation from Lilith’s company too, y’know? You remember our friend Ash? He did some computer magic and erased anything in her systems saying that we were supposed to be fired. We all got a ton of money out of it.)_

_(And that’s good?)_

_(Yeah, it was. I didn’t know about it until Sam told me that he and Jess had been offered jobs at the marine institute here. He’d hidden the money from me when I was drunk so I wouldn’t spend it on stupid decisions.)_

_(Like what?)_

Dean snorts and shrugs. _(Like getting a tattoo on your leg?)_

Castiel reaches his tail out to drag the end over the blue marks on Dean’s legs. _(Like these?)_

 _(Yup. Woke up one morning with it and decided to go back and get the other leg done too.)_ He lifts one of his legs to see it. _(I liked it, though. It helped, I think. Somehow. After I got these there were days when I didn’t drink at all.)_

_(Did you use this compensation money to build the house too?)_

“Sorta yes, sorta no. I thought about moving with Sam and Jess just to be a few days from here and closer to where you were or where you used to live. I even thought about finding you again. I have a whole notebook full of ideas on ways I could find you. But then Bobby found a posting on the internet about how parts of this island were up for sale.” Dean pauses and glances at Castiel, his fingers twisting in the bottom of his shirt again. “Turns out it’s cheaper to build a house out here than it is back where I came from. But even with the compensation money Sam had saved up for me and what I was saving on the house, I couldn’t afford the cove.”

Castiel looks up from admiring the cover of the book again. _(Then how did you get it?)_

 _(Sam and Bobby. They gave me their compensation money. Bobby said he had no use for it and Sam said he’s covered for every birthday and Christmas for all my lifetimes now.)_ He grins for a moment before looking away. Embarrassment creeps into the kin-connection and Castiel isn’t sure what it could be for. _(They put the idea of this place into my head. Said it would be a great place where you’d still be close to the ocean and your family, and it has way less of a risk for you to be seen.)_

He traces the words on the front of the book with point of his claw, waiting for Dean to continue.

_(I wanted to do it. But I still thought you hated me –)_

_(I never hated you.)_ It’s an impossible thought and one that makes his heart twist. He can’t imagine hating Dean. There were times where he was very unhappy with him, upset for what he did, but Castiel never _hated_ him. He shifts slightly, enough that their shoulders are pressed together.

Dean’s happiness with the statement and the contact sings through the kin-connection and it warms Castiel from the inside out. _(That’s when Sam told me about Jo and how she told you everything. I had no idea that you knew it was a lie. I thought you – The whole time I thought that we’d split up with you thinking I cheated on you. I bought the cove the same day he told me you knew.)_

_(And then?)_

_(Then we spent a year building the house and another half a year searching for you.)_

Castiel huffs and the spines of his fans flex in annoyance. _(You haven’t answered all my questions.)_

He picks up his notebook and checks the notes he made, frowning at the scribbled words. “Oh. Yeah, okay. I’ll –”

They both look toward the stairs as someone steps down them. Jess pauses at the bottom to look at them and her grin is wide and bright. “I take it things are going well?” She tilts her head to gesture to what she’s referring to and Castiel realizes that she’s looking directly at where the end of his tail is curled around Dean’s leg.

“So far so good.” Dean shrugs and looks at him. “At least, I think so?”

Castiel nods. Yes, this talk has gone well. There are still things for them to discuss, but Castiel better understands Dean’s feelings about what happened now. Dean was hurting just as badly as was and knowing that doesn’t exactly make him happy, but it does take away some of the sting of those memories for him.

“Is there something we can help you with, Jess? Or are you just gonna keep staring at us?”

“I’m just coming down to use the wash room. And wondering if you guys are as ready for lunch as we are?” She gestures over her shoulder and back up the stairs.

Dean checks the watch on his wrist and surprise flickers through the kin-connection. “Shit, I didn’t realize how long it’s been.”

 _(We did spent quite some time with your memories.)_ Castiel puts the book aside. _(Are you hungry?)_

_(I could eat. You?)_

_(I wouldn’t mind swimming and catching something to eat. I’d like to think over what we’ve talked about already.)_ He uncurls from around Dean’s leg, his whole body tingling with the slide of his scales over skin. It’s addicting and it’s something that’s he’s sorely missed. _(Could you help me outside, please?)_

“Yeah, of course.” Dean stands and stretches until Castiel can hear his spine make popping noises. “Jess, I’ll whip up some mac and cheese for lunch.”

“Throw in some diced hotdogs and you’ll be golden.” She lifts a fist with only her thumb raised and disappears into the bathroom.

When Dean reaches for the wheelchair to pull it closer to the couch, Castiel flicks his tail against his leg and shakes his head. Confusion pulses into the kin-connection and is quickly replaced with surprise as Castiel holds his arms out to him. His heart feels like it’s going too fast and his stomach is too tight – full of nerves and it’s like he’s going to be sick even though he knows he’s not. He hasn’t felt like this about touching Dean since the day Dean had suggested the kissing trial.

Dean swings the chair around so it’s not blocking his way toward the door. He hesitates a moment, indecision curling along the edges of his mind. Castiel lowers his arms slowly and worry knots at the base of his throat. Does Dean not want to carry him? He seemed so willing last night and he didn’t object to what little touching they did on the couch. His adipose fins ripple nervously and Dean glances down at them, smiling.

_(Relax. I was just deciding if it would be easier to go out this door or the kitchen door and if I should open the door first.)_

He ducks his head, looking toward the door and hoping that the embarrassed warmth he feels in his face doesn’t show. _(Get the door first. Either one will be fine, since you don’t have to take the stairs. I can just go over the railing.)_

“No.” Dean says it so sharply it startles Castiel just as much as the vehement rejection in the kin-connection does. “I’m not pushing you over anymore rails or walls, Cas.”

His expression is hard and there is pain around his words. Castiel is reaching for him before he knows he’s doing it, grabbing the end of his shirt and pulling him closer. Dean leans down and Castiel wraps his arms around his shoulders, pressing his face to his neck as Dean’s arms fold around him, one around his back and the other under his tail. He lifts him from the couch easily and Castiel’s tail curls around his waist. Six seasons and it feels exactly the same to have Dean’s cheek against his gills and his breath on his shoulder.

The first thing that hits him is Dean’s scent – strong in the curve of his neck and so familiar. Then there’s the heat of his body through his shirt, his arms, his pants. He’s so warm on the outside and Castiel wants to feel it in the kin-connection to. Dean did all this to see him again so he must still feel that warmth and Castiel craves it. If Dean would share that with him again, show him that he still feels it – maybe Castiel will stop feeling this tightness in his chest that has squeezed around his ribs since the moment he got here. Maybe he’ll be able to drop the walls that keep his emotions hidden from Dean and he can share with Dean the warmth that pools behind his sternum.

Mother-sea help him, he’s still in love with Dean. 


	42. Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel can feel the towels tearing under his claws and he forces himself to let go, smoothing his hands over them instead. Not once does he take his eyes from Dean’s. _(Why did you throw me away?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: valiantparadox, captainohmycaptain, chemenze, cristality, carryon-waywardidjits, ilikethewayyousoundinthemorning, thatkawaiiassangel, buttinspectorkirby, fallenfromthetardis, forthecockles, and streetlightangel
> 
>   _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

The walk outside is slow. Dean fumbles, one-handed, to open the sliding-door and Castiel does nothing to help. His fingers are folded too tightly in Dean’s shirt and he doesn’t want to lift his face or uncurl from around Dean’s waist. He holds tightly and does nothing as Dean carries him out onto the deck that wraps around part of the house.

Going down the stairs is even slower. Dean pauses on every step before he takes the next and when he reaches the floating-path, he uses the railing to lower himself to sit on the edge, his feet in the water. Tingles chase down Castiel’s spine when Dean wraps his arms firmly around his waist. He turns his head until his nose brushes over his gills. Castiel only holds tighter, twitching the end of his tail along Dean’s thigh where it curls around his hips.

 _(I missed this.)_ Dean sighs against his collarbone, his cheek rubbing against Castiel’s shoulder. Every thought he sends into their link is soaked in joy and regret. _(I missed you, Cas. I missed you so much.)_

Castiel hums a quiet noise, tilting his head to push his nose under Dean’s jaw. He wants to kiss him – his mouth, his skin, _everywhere_. It’s like an itch under his scales and the spines of his back-fans flex above Dean’s arms with the _want_. But he can’t. He needs to abstain from anything beyond this, just like how he’s keeping his emotions from the kin-connection. It’s the only protection he can give himself until he’s sure of Dean’s feelings, until he’s sure that Dean won’t hurt him again.

He’s not sure how long that will take.

Dean pulls back slowly, hands sliding along the small of Castiel’s back, palms curving around his hips. His fingers drag over the scar just a finger-width above where scales become skin on his right side. Surprise spikes through the kin-connection, followed closely with alarm.

_(What the hell is this?)_

_(A battle scar.)_ Castiel leans back, twisting to look down at Dean’s hand where it continues to trace the edges of it. Every touch makes his adipose fins ripple. _(It was deep enough to leave a scar, but otherwise it doesn’t bother me.)_

He shares the memory like Dean did with him so long ago. Castiel can clearly remember the dark of the battlefield, lit with his echoes and the flash of his colony-kin’s natural glows. Fang-fin are naturally bigger – longer, broader, and certainly stronger. It was with speed and agility that the colony warriors held the upper hand.

When the blow hit Castiel, it was from behind while he was combating another fang-fin. He smelled the blood in the water – _his_ blood – but he didn’t feel the pain. The sting and the burn didn’t register until Hester was pulling him away from what remained of the fang-fin he had been fighting. He doesn’t remember much after that.

Dean goes still beneath him and worry twists at the base of Castiel’s throat. He tilts his head to see Dean’s expression, but his eyes are downcast to look at the scar. _(What’s wrong?)_

 _(You – Cas, you got_ hurt _. Was it – did you – could you have –)_ The fear that courses through the kin-connection is almost suffocating and Castiel closes his eyes to it. He curls into Dean’s chest, tucking his nose under Dean’s jaw again. Dean’s arms close around him in a hold tighter than before and he makes a wounded gasp of a sound against Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel gives in to his urge to touch Dean more intimately, to give him the comfort that he’s seeking. He lays one palm over the back of Dean’s neck, and pushes his other hand into his hair, enjoying the slide of it against his fingers and webbing. _(I’m fine, Dean. The healers barely even kept me in the caves for more than a few days. There’s nothing to worry about.)_

 _(You could have_ died _, Cas. I could have lost you and I never would’ve –)_ Dean makes the same noise again and his shoulders shake under Castiel’s arms. Several different emotions – horror, relief, upset, various fears and regrets and guilt – all flicker through the kin-connection.

He continues to run his fingers and webbing through Dean’s hair until the shaking stops, until Dean is able to breathe normally again and he leans back once more. Castiel lets his hand slide to cupping the side of Dean’s neck and he’s tempted, so very tempted, to lean in and – _no._ He can feel Dean’s _want_ in the link too as Dean’s eyes slip to his mouth. Dean licks his lips, teeth catching over his bottom lip and it would be so _easy_ – Castiel misses that too. It’s been seasons since he had a proper kiss – since he got to _taste_ Dean.

He should – he _needs_ to swim now. The sooner he stops touching Dean the less difficult it will be to resist these urges. They haven’t finished talking yet. There’s still much to go over and Castiel can’t lose himself to the physical until they have resolved everything else. He needs to be strong.

Dean looks up again, taking in Castiel’s expression for a few moments. He sighs and his head tips forward until his forehead bumps Castiel’s shoulder. _(Jess is gonna get cranky if I don’t start lunch soon. Are you going to – will we keep the kin-connection while you’re swimming?)_

Castiel uncurls his tail from around Dean’s waist slowly, turning in his lap so his tail falls over Dean’s knees and into the water. Dean’s hands stay on his hips, squeezing tightly. He places his hands over them. _(Of course, Dean. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come back inside.)_ It seems Dean is just as hesitant as he is to lose the kin-connection between them again, even if only for a short time.

The hands on his hips move over his stomach and Dean pulls him back against his chest in another tight hug. Castiel can feel his cheek on the back of his neck, and for a moment he thinks he feels the brush of lips against his skin. His adipose fans ripple violently against Dean’s legs and his breath catches in his throat. Dean leans them both forward until Castiel can dive-slide from his lap into the water without catching the spines of his back-fans on anything.

For the first time in a very long time, Castiel chokes on water before it flows through his gills properly. He twists under the floating-path, flaring his back-fans to brush against Dean’s ankles and feet as he passes under him. Amusement tickles along the edges of the kin-connection. Castiel flips to swim upside down to watch behind him as Dean climbs the stairs back into the house.

While he hunts the fish in the cove, Castiel thinks of what he’s learned this morning. Dean has spent so much time looking for him and preparing a home that would be comfortable for him too in a place that is close to his family. He did it all without knowing whether Castiel would want to stay or not. He did it without knowing if he would ever see him again. But these are all things he’s been over before. Dean has _hope_ and Castiel needs to talk to him about that.

They need to talk about what they’re going to do. If Castiel chooses to be with Dean again, there is still the colony to think about. Even if the colony accepts Dean living nearby and knowing about their existence, the council might not accept him having a relationship with a two-tails. They may have accepted having _had_ one, but it could be considered a danger for Castiel to swim back and forth between the colony and the cove.

And where would he stay? Would he live with Dean or stay with the colony? How would he split his time? Would he even be allowed back into the colony if he chooses to fight to keep his relationship with Dean? There are so many _questions_. Castiel hates it. He hates not knowing what or how or when or – why can’t anything where Dean is concerned just be _simple_?

The frustration, the inevitable worry – and he doesn’t even know _what_ to be worried about right now – it all twists in his stomach and makes it hard to eat anything that he catches. Castiel swims to alleviate the itch under his scales – the urge to touch and kiss and taste Dean, and his irritation with the unknown. He hasn’t felt like this in seasons and even though he missed Dean, he most certainly did not miss this feeling.

The kin-connection with Dean lies mostly quiet. There are moments where Dean’s emotions flare brightly, filling the channels, while he interacts with Sam and Jess. Sometimes it is amusement, sometimes annoyance, but under everything there is a singing pulse of joy. Dean is happy, happier than he’s been in a very long time and Castiel wants to know why. His laughs tremble through their link, a sound without being a sound, and he misses hearing it properly.

Castiel settles at the bottom of the cove, working his back-fans into the sand. Once they’re buried, he digs the end of his tail in too. Absently, he takes handfuls of sand and rubs it over his stomach and chest, fingers brushing aside the necklace where it rests against his collarbone. He works the sand against his arms and his shoulders as he stares up at the wavering light in the water and steady-blue beyond the surface, and he focuses on that instead of thinking about anything else.

All he wants to think about now is that it’s nice to see Dean again, to see Sam and Jess and after he’s done talking with Dean he would like to talk to them too and learn what they’ve been doing. He’d like for them to share the memories of their ceremony, and their new home. It’s barely a day from here by the way that humans travel, but it’s far enough that Castiel might never get to see it in person.

He tries not to dwell on the colony or the council or what they will think if he expresses the desire to remain in contact with Dean. Raphael might call for a permanent exile should that happen and even if he and his family fight for it, the colony’s safety will always come first. One two-tails all on his own is not a threat, but Castiel constantly going to and from the colony is. It’s not like the guarded kelp forests or the deep sea hunting grounds.

This is something _new_ and the colony and the council do not deal so well with new things. Change makes fin-kin nervous. There are still some of the colony-kin who have not yet accepted that the fang-fin now live at one end of the trench. Those same kin might never accept a relationship between two males, let alone a fin-kin and a two-tails. Castiel realizes that that he never asked Gabriel or his other siblings what they thought about him only being attracted to males. He never even asked how the colony reacted to that. He’d been too focused on starting his rotation-long exile, too anxious to follow Sam’s directions, and too nervous to see Dean again.

Castiel distracts himself from his thoughts by rubbing sand over his scales too, working the grains gently into his adipose fins until he feels cleaner than he did before. He doesn’t have his knife with him, so he can’t shave. He shaved a few days ago, and his stubble doesn’t feel too thick. Another day or so and he’s going to want to shave then. He doesn’t like going more than a handful of days without doing that.

Dean’s thoughts draw curiously, almost cautiously, along the walls around Castiel’s mind. _(We’re all done and cleaned up over here, whenever you’re ready to come back.)_

Part of him wants to go back and curl against Dean’s heat again. Dean will have to carry him up the stairs and Castiel isn’t sure that he’ll be able to let go when they sit on the couch again. It would be counterproductive to his decision to keep himself physically distant from Dean until he can resolve the turmoil in his heart and mind.

He tells Dean he’s not ready yet and wastes time lining an area against one of the cove’s walls with rocks. Once it is sectioned off, Castiel digs a quick hole within the ring of stones to relieve himself. He scoops sand back into it before he tells Dean that he’s ready.

They meet at the floating-path again and Dean helps lift him from the water while he coughs his lungs clean. He has towels prepared and Castiel pats his tail dry while Dean does the same for his back-fans and hair. Castiel holds both towels folded against his stomach while Dean lifts him to his chest, his tail hanging over one arm. He twists his fingers in the towels to keep himself from touching Dean and he turns his face away.

Dean carries him easily up the stairs and into the couch-room. He doesn’t seem to notice that Castiel is more closed off than earlier, or he does notice and he’s just not commenting on it. There are the sounds of footsteps on the floor above and Sam and Jess are nowhere to be seen. Castiel curls his tail under him when Dean puts him on the couch, careful to tuck all parts of him away from the other end where Dean takes his place.

Dean does notice that and his smile slips slightly. He leans back against the arm rest, one of his feet planted on the couch cushions and his knee wobbling from side and side in the air. _(So… What did you want to talk about now?)_

Castiel fidgets with the towels, folding and unfolding them. _(You never said what happened to Meg.)_

 _(Oh, yeah.)_ Dean runs a hand through his hair and shrugs. _(Turns out she had no idea that Crowley was arranging to catch the whole colony. She was pretty pissed that we drugged her with everyone else before she had the chance to tell us about it. But she helped with a ton of the shit that he used to do, so she’s locked up too – not for as long as he’ll be, since she took the plea with Benny and the others.)_

And that answers that. Castiel has other questions that were only half answered earlier. He’s just not sure which ones to ask. They still have another six days to discuss everything and at the end of the rotation he’s going to have to leave Dean and go home and face his colony. What if the council tells him that he’s not allowed to come back? What is he going to do if they tell him that he’s not allowed to see Dean again? If things are resolved, will he be able to give up Dean if the council commands it?

Castiel looks up at Dean. He looks at Dean and the way his hand rests on the back of his neck, elbow against the back of the couch. He looks at Dean and the way he’s staring down at the bottom of his shirt and where he’s picking at something unseen. He looks at Dean and the tattoos of his markings on his legs as he sits in the home he built for them.

And the questions come again. _(Why did you use the bonding-song to find me?)_

Dean tilts his face up slightly, just enough to look at him from under his eyebrows. _(I thought it would be the best one to get your attention with.)_ He doesn’t mention about the response he made to the song with the guitar.

His hold on the towel is so tight it makes his hands tremble. _(Why did you come back?)_

 _(I missed you and I wanted to see you again.)_ Dean lifts his head more and the kin-connection fills with his longing and his hope. _(When Sam told me that he and Jess were thinking about accepting the positions over here, he said that I should come too. I wasn’t going to, at first, because it was going to be too close to you and I thought you hated me for the thing with Jo and for making you leave. Then Sam told me you knew the whole time, that you followed the boat and he had to tell you not to. You_ knew _and I – I missed you so fucking much, Cas. I had to see you even if you never wanted to see me again, I needed to see you just to say I’m sorry for everything and I would never have done that if I could do it all over again –)_

Castiel can feel the towels tearing under his claws and he forces himself to let go, smoothing his hands over them instead. Not once does he take his eyes from Dean’s. _(Why did you throw me away?)_

Dean flinches and something like _hurt_ spikes through the kin-connection. _(I didn’t –)_

 _(You did. I didn’t want to leave – even after you_ lied _to me to make me leave – and you made the decision for me. You carried me and pushed me off that boat against my will.)_ His fans flare at the memory and the familiar pain curls in his chest. _(Explain to me how that isn’t you throwing me away.)_

He flinches and looks down at his lap again, eyes squeezing shut around the guilt that floods their link. _(You wouldn’t have been happy if I took you home with me. You’d have been stuck in – at best – a one bedroom apartment. You probably wouldn’t have been able to swim in open waters for months, if not years at a time.)_

Dean starts picking at his shirt again, fingers twisting in the end of it. _(I would’ve tried, but getting you from home to a body of water you could swim in would’ve been dangerous as hell coz’ someone could’ve seen you. I couldn’t see any way you would’ve been happy there, Cas. And I couldn’t handle that you’d end up hating it, hating_ me _, for taking away such a big part of who you are. I couldn’t – I wouldn’t – take you to a life like that.)_

After a moment of silence, he starts again. _(Even if I explained it to you then, you weren’t going to leave. You didn’t even leave when I pulled that shit with Jo to make you hate me so you’d make the decision yourself. Then Benny told me what he’d heard Crowley planning and – I just did it.)_

The emotions that fill the kin-connection are dark and painful. They clog the channels with self-hatred, despair, and so much hurt that Castiel almost blocks out Dean’s emotions again just to make it stop. _(If I could go back and change that, I would in a heartbeat. I – Jesus, Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. It’s – I should never have –)_

Castiel wrinkles the towels by curling his fingers in them again. One question, he has one more question. _(Why did you come back?)_

Dean deflates, the air escaping his lungs in a whoosh. He blinks across the couch at Castiel for several long seconds. After many moments, he lowers his leg, folding it before him. His hands close around his ankle and even from where he is sitting, Castiel can see that his knuckles and the skin under his fingers are turning white.

He is wholly unprepared for that one final wall in Dean’s mind to fall way, leaving his mind completely open to Castiel’s touch. The surge of warmth – burning bright enough to blind him – crashes through the kin-connection and it scatters Castiel’s thoughts. It doesn’t stop. There is no end to it. It’s overwhelming, overpowering, nearly shattering through what feeble walls Castiel still has left around his mind. His adipose fins ripple wildly and his fans flex uncontrollably. There’s suddenly no air to breathe and even Castiel’s gills flap uselessly against his neck.

The warmth fills him from the top of his head to the end of his tail. It pushes out into the spines of his fans to their tips and spreads through the adipose of his fins and his webbing. It fills him completely and there’s still no end to it. It burns in a way Castiel never thought he would have again. It burns in a way he never thought he would ever get to feel like _this_.

Warmth blinds him, deafens him, numbs him. Castiel doesn’t even notice when Dean moves. One moment he’s on the other side of the couch, the next he’s kneeling in front of him and his hands are covering Castiel’s gills. But each breath is still gasped and Castiel has trouble focusing on anything but _green_ until Dean stems the flow of the warmth. It narrows into one channel instead of flooding all of them, a constant stream that feeds straight into Castiel’s chest and pours into the empty space that’s held nothing but a numb pain for six seasons.

Concern flickers along the edges of the warmth, pulsing in quick little bursts around the warmth. Castiel’s hand shake when he lifts them from his lap to curl his fingers around Dean’s wrists. It takes more than one attempt to organize his thoughts into one coherent question. _(Why did you come back?)_

A smile twists the corners of Dean’s mouth, pulling them up until there are crinkles beside his eyes. His voice is low and soft and Castiel watches the words form on Dean’s lips. “Because I need you, Cas.”

The warmth flares brightly with the thought and Castiel’s heart feels like it stops. At the same time it feels like it’s going too fast. Dean’s words hold more than just their face value. He means them and so much more and Castiel knows – he remembers – that Dean had trouble saying what he really meant once before. Dean couldn’t say them then, and he’s not really saying them now. But he’s saying the closest that he can without saying them specifically. They carry the same meaning and even if Castiel would like to hear the true words, he knows this is the best Dean might ever be able to give.

Even with Dean’s hands over his gills, Castiel still feels like he can’t breathe. But for the first time in a long time, Castiel doesn’t feel empty. He doesn’t feel that hollow space in his chest. He doesn’t feel numb. He feels full – _complete_.

A noise escapes him – small and choked and Castiel slides his hands up Dean’s arms. He presses forward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s chest and hiding his face in the curve of his neck. Dean falls back against the couch slowly. His legs stretch out on either side of Castiel’s tail, one wedged tightly between him and the couch.

Dean’s hands run over his back-fans gently, fingers pressing in where the webbing meets his back. It’s a soft, repetitive touch that Castiel remembers. It feels familiar, it feels comforting. It feels like home. And that’s a feeling that should confuse him. His home is a day’s swim away, isn’t it? It’s where his family and friends are. So why does _here_ feel so much more comfortable?

“Again.” Castiel mumbles against Dean’s pulse.

His throat vibrates under Castiel’s cheek, shaking with a quiet laugh. _(I came back because I knew you for a month and after a year and a half you were still buried deep enough under my skin that I spent almost everything I had to find you. I came back because it was two and a half years and I still wanted you. I came back because I want to be with you.)_ The filter around the warmth lessens and it fills him again. _(I came back because I need you.)_

Castiel twists the end of his tail around one of Dean’s ankles. _(Again.)_

Lips brush his temple when Dean turns his head. “I need you, Cas.”

By the time Jess and Sam come down to start making dinner, Castiel has had Dean repeat it countless times. They haven’t moved and Castiel refuses to let Dean get up to help them. Dean doesn’t complain and even though he’s long stopped stroking Castiel’s back, his hands are still spread wide and warm between his back-fans and every so often he presses gentle kisses to Castiel’s temple. At some point, Castiel slides to one side so that he is laying with his back to the couch and he is pressed along Dean’s side instead of laying directly on top of him.

Jess and Sam keep peeking around the entrance from the kitchen. Dean explains that they’re just reheating what was left over from yesterday’s dinner and they keep looking because they’re being nosy.

_(But why?)_

_(Because we’re sitting like this and we haven’t told them why.)_

Castiel hums and tilts his head back, rubbing his nose under Dean’s jaw. _(And why do you think that we’re sitting this way?)_

Dean’s hand stills in Castiel’s hair where he had been absently twisting the dried curls and smoothing them flat. Worry flares hotly along the edges of his mind, mixed with a strained hope. He bites his bottom lip and shifts under Castiel’s weight. _(I – We’re – I don’t know, Cas. I know what_ I _want, but you’re still hiding everything from me. I don’t know what_ you _want.)_

He wants – Castiel wants – He doesn’t know. Of course he wants Dean. If he can, he wants to stay and be with Dean – in the way they were before or in a whole new way in this new home. But he wants his family too. He wants both worlds, his and Dean’s. Castiel just isn’t sure he’ll be allowed to have one with the other. He doesn’t want to put his hope and his heart into Dean again, only to find out in six days that he’s going to have to decide between them.

If he chooses Dean over the colony like he did before, how can he be sure that Dean won’t leave him behind again?

Castiel lowers the walls around his emotions enough to let that worry curl through. It’s backed by everything he felt six seasons ago when Dean pushed him over the edge of the boat and what it was like to be left behind after what they shared. He’s answered with a remorse so powerful it even overtakes the warmth that Dean barely bothers to restrain. Dean’s arm slips to his shoulder and squeezes him tightly, his other hand tightening over Castiel’s arm where it rests.

After a moment’s hesitation, Castiel allows one last emotion through before he raises and strengthens his barriers again. It’s a small, solitary curl of warmth that stretches through the kin-connection to brush over Dean’s thoughts. Castiel has to hide his smile against Dean’s collarbone when he feels him seize that feeling, dragging it from the kin-connection and hoarding it like Gabriel does his sweet snail shells, or like Anna and the treasures that her brothers find for her.

It’s another few minutes before Dean says anything again. _(I understand, Cas, I do. I hurt you and you’ve forgiven me but that doesn’t mean that you’re ready to trust me again.)_ He slides back against the arm rest, pushing himself up to sit.

Castiel stifles a growl in his throat as he’s forced to move too, holding himself up on his arms until he realizes that Dean wants them to be able to see each other properly while they talk this time. He sits back on the fold of his tail between Dean’s feet. The end of his tail stays firmly wrapped around one of Dean’s ankles and Castiel isn’t surprised that his hands find their way to Dean’s other leg to trace the tips of his claws around the edges of the tattoos. This is the first time he’s touched them properly and there is no difference between them and the rest of Dean’s skin, but it still feels _different_ to him.

 _(I always figured – if I ever found you and you were willing to even talk to me – that I’d broken that. And I’m ready, Cas.)_ Dean smiles slightly, determination rolling through the kin-connection.

He frowns, head tilting slightly. _(Ready for what?)_

 _(To make it up to you. To earn your trust back.)_ Dean leans forward, resting his palms on the fold of Castiel’s tail. _(This is my home now. What happens from here on out is entirely up to you. My life is in a great place right now and I want to share it with you. I mean it, Cas. I’m not going anywhere.)_

His adipose fins flutter at the admission and something light and floating fills Castiel’s chest. When he swallows, there’s something tight lodged in the base of his throat. Castiel’s mouth and his lips feel dry and he licks them. All he can do is nod; slowly, repeatedly. The utter _truth_ of Dean’s words rings loudly through the kin-connection. There’s no lie, no hidden meaning, no double standard. They are frank and true and it’s another weight that tips the balance closer and closer toward trusting Dean again.

Dean soft smile grows again and he rubs his thumbs over Castiel’s scales, circling a swirl in his glow pattern. “Let’s go soak you down before supper. You want to eat with us?”

He nods again. _(I’d like that.)_

“I’ll show you the bathroom, then. Carry or chair?” Dean pats his tail and Castiel has to let go and sit back into his corner of the couch for Dean to stand.

There is no hesitation for Castiel. He holds his arms out and even this small gestures makes the kin-connection spark brightly with Dean’s joy. Castiel grabs the towels from the floor before Dean lifts him to his chest again, his tail folded over one arm. The bathroom is bigger than all two bathrooms that Castiel has been in previously.

They enter through door from the hall and within a few steps of the door there is a ledge with cupboards beneath it. The ledge is wide enough for two sinks, but it only holds one. Half of the ledge is an empty space – a perfect place for Castiel to sit. There are more cubbies and shelves against the opposite wall. They are between the glass door of a shower and a large silver cube with a glass circle attached to its front. Dean explains that it is called a ‘washing machine’ and is used to make clothes and towels clean.

“I just hang everything up outside on lines to dry them.” Dean shrugs and carries Castiel past the shower and the toilet opposite it at the end of the ledge.

The other door, the one that leads to Dean’s bedroom, is next to the toilet. Beside the shower and taking up the majority of the back corner and wall is a low wall that separates the biggest sink Castiel has ever seen. Dean laughs when he shares the thought.

 _(It’s called a bathtub. We can fill it with water and sit in it to relax.)_ He lowers Castiel over the short wall slowly, letting his tail drop to pool in the bottom of the tub first.

 _(Why wouldn’t you just swim outside instead?)_ Castiel looks up at him once he is fully seated. There is still plenty of space for another person to sit comfortably in the tub with him. _(Is it for when the weather is bad?)_

 _(It could be. But unlike the cove_ this _can have_ hot _water to help muscles relax and it’s just nice to soak in a hot bath once in a while.)_ Dean shrugs and sits on the edge of the tub. He takes the towels and dumps them on the ground before pointing at the shiny spouts and knobs on the ledge at the back of the tub. _(If you want cold water, turn the tap on the right. No, turn it the other way. Righty tight-y, lefty loose-y. There we go.)_

Water starts pouring out of the spout between the two knobs. It spreads through the bottom of the tub, curving around where Castiel’s tail presses into the floor on its way toward a slotted opening under where Dean is sitting. There is a fourth object on the edge of the tub that looks like the spout in a shower, but it has a handle sticking out of the back of it. Dean takes the towels and drops them on the floor before he leans across the tub to pull at the shower-spout. It comes up from the edge of the tub easily but it is still connected but a tube no thicker than Castiel’s finger.

_(Are you sure you want it this cold?)_

_(Cold water doesn’t bother me.)_ To prove his point, Castiel sticks his hands under the water pouring from the spout.

Dean shrugs and points the shower-spout toward him. He squeezes the handle on the back and Castiel’s fans all flare in surprise – much to Dean’s amusement in the kin-connection – as the water switches from coming out the spout above his hands to coming out of the one Dean is holding. It’s like a moveable shower and it is much more effective than a spray bottle. Castiel twists onto his front for Dean to spray his back fans and he makes a face when Dean turns the water onto his head to soak his side-fans too. He shakes the water out of his eyes and flicks his fans, fighting not to smirk when Dean flinches back from the scattered droplets.

While Castiel pat-dries himself on the edge of the tub, Dean get the wheelchair. He guides it easily into the bathroom and Castiel lifts his tail into the bucket, hooking the end over the edge as the rest curves into the bottom of it, before Dean helps him move into the seat. Dean pushes him to the kitchen table.

Sam and Jess are already waiting for them, sitting in the same places they were this morning. Castiel’s plate has slices of fish ready for him and Dean’s plate is already full of thin strings covered in red, topped with several round balls of brown, and covered in slivers of yellow and white. He remembers eating the strings and the red before, but he can’t remember the names for it.

 _(Spaghetti and tomato sauce. These are meatballs and it’s covered in cheese. Here –)_ Dean twirls the spaghetti around the tines of his fork and dumps the forkful  onto the edge of Castiel’s plate. He adds a few of the meatballs and a rectangular slice of bread from the plate in the middle of the table. _(That’s garlic bread. Try it first. You might not like how it’s spiced.)_

Castiel nibbles at it. It has a hard edge arced under it, like a shell, and only the center piece is fluffy. The taste dances across his tongue and he finishes the entire thing enthusiastically. As he starts on trying the spaghetti again, Castiel makes the kin-connection with both Sam and Jess. He bridges all the links enough that they will all hear his response, but they won’t be able to hear each other’s thoughts.

Jess’s link is practically trembling with curiosity and she keeps looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel. Dean sighs and waves his fork at her. “Get it out.”

She grins brightly at him. “It looked like things went well today!”

 _(It did.)_ Castiel answers before Dean can and he welcomes the expected delight from Dean’s link. _(It might be some time before we’ll know if things can be like they were – especially when my exile is over –)_ Confusion pulses over the joy and Castiel meets Dean’s glance. _(I need to return to the colony to assure the council that you’re not here as a threat. And I’m not sure if they’ll allow me to go back and forth between here and where we live.)_

The confusion turns to disappointment and twists of worry. Dean looks down at his food and pushes the spaghetti around his plate. “That’s understandable. The colony’s safety comes first, right?”

Jess huffs and stabs at a meatball on her plate. “You were like that before too. It’s all about the good of the colony.” She points the meatball at him. “But what about _you_? What about what’s good for _Castiel_?”

He has no answer for her. The last time he thought of himself instead of the colony had been six seasons ago and more recently when he had followed the song. That had put both the colony and Dean at risk. Castiel doesn’t like the pinching behind his ribs when he remembers Raphael advancing on Dean.

 Sam reaches over and presses down on Jess’s arm to make her lower the fork. “I don’t think right now is the time for that conversation.” He turns his smile on Castiel, warm and soft. “Why don’t you tell us what you’ve been up to since we saw you last?”

The only part that Castiel leaves out is the days that he waited for the boat to come back and how he found his way home. He explains about the lonesome journey home and shares the memories of finally getting to see his family again. Both Sam and Jess ask for a better look at his scar when he talks about the war. When he mentions the fang-fin, even Dean is very interested in seeing what they look like in his memories. Castiel hadn’t shown them before – too concerned to keep as much about fin-kin as secret as possible.

“They seem very… shark-like.” Jess muses, going over the memories he shared. “They have solid dorsal fins and pectoral fins on the elbows. And some of the ones that you fought, their tails looked like threshers, tiger sharks, I think I even saw a great white in there.”

Sam is doing the same thing with the memories. “Does this mean there are other breeds of fin-kin? There’s your colony, the fang-fin and are there others?”

_(It’s entirely possible. Fin-kin are said to live in all parts of the ocean. The fang-fin call our colony bright-fins because of our glows.)_

When Castiel reaches the point in his recollection when the strange dreams had started, he hesitates to mention them. Predictably, the moment he shares his memories of them, the others go silent and three sets of wide eyes turn to him. The surprise in the kin-connection is in triplicate and it spikes so sharply through all three links that it actually hurts a little.

“You – Cas.” Dean turns to face him completely, his expression serious enough that it makes Castiel’s stomach twist around the food he just consumed. “Cas, are you psychic?”

He snorts and flicks irritation at Dean over the walls around his mind. _(Not that I’m aware of. The dreams were focused on you, Dean. I didn’t see Sam and Jess or anything that was around you unless it was within close proximity to you.)_ Castiel pushes his finger through what remains of the spaghetti’s sauce on his plate, watching that instead of Dean. _(It was difficult to move on when I would see you at night in my dreams.)_

“Uh – yeah, sorry about that.” Dean slumps back in his seat and remorse fills the kin-connection. It’s tinged with a bitter kind of joy – an emotion Dean would have once hid from him. But Dean is hiding nothing now. His emotions are fully open to Castiel and it’s refreshing. Every new thought or emotion that filters through is another tip to the balance.

Castiel reaches around the walls surrounding his mind to soothe over Dean’s thoughts. _(There is nothing to apologize for. You have as much control over my dreams as I do. Which is to say, none.)_

Jess is tapping her fingers on the table while looking at the ceiling, her expression thoughtful. “When did you start having these dreams?”

_(Three seasons ago.)_

“A year and a half.” Sam figures it out before he can. “Probably around the time you decided to buy the cove and move out here, Dean. There’s a lot that we don’t know about the kin-connection. It’s possible that when you decided to come find Cas again, your brains clicked back together.”

 _(That’s unheard of.)_ Castiel shakes his head. Even bond-mates can’t sustain a kin-connection of that magnitude over a distance that great. _(I’ve never heard of it happening for any fin-kin before.)_

“But you have an anomaly in the equation.” Jess leans forward suddenly and her excitement quivers through the kin-connection. “There’s never been a kin-connection with a _human_ before. Dean is the kink in the plans. Humans have all kinds of mental things that science can’t properly explain even if we’ve tried studying it. Fin-kin probably have it too. Who’s to say that it isn’t entirely normal that somehow, from across the world, your subconscious was picking up on what Dean was doing?”

“Please don’t go all scientist on this.” Dean groans, tilting his head back against his chair. “It’s weird, it happened. Can we move past – wait.” He sits forward sharply and turns wide eyes to Castiel, trepidation soaking through his thoughts. “What _exactly_ did you see?”

He shares all that he can remember of them and Dean winces when the aborted dream-memories of the times when he was hanging off of females play through the kin-connection. His next thoughts Castiel keeps from sharing with Sam and Jess. _(I can explain that.)_

_(There is no need. We were not together at the time –)_

_(No, Cas, let me finish. I didn’t –)_

_(I don’t want to know about them, Dean. Please don’t elabo–)_

Dean makes a frustrated noise. _(I didn’t sleep with them!)_ That silences any interruption Castiel had. After a moment of making sure that he isn’t going to say anything more, Dean continues. _(That’s not saying that I didn’t try. I was drunk, I was hurting and I wanted to get over you. I fell back on old habits and – it never happened, okay? Either I was too drunk to get anything up, or I was sober enough that I wasn’t able to go through with it. Every time I tried I kept thinking about you and how we did-but-didn’t-really break up and it just – it wouldn’t happen. I haven’t seen any action past my right hand in three years. It’s been like prison all over again.)_ He groans loudly and leans forward until his forehead thumps the table – narrowly missing the plate that Jess rescues.

There is silence at the table until Sam starts collecting the dishes. Castiel gathers himself together enough to pass what is in reach for him across the table. It’s still several minutes more of silence until he touches along the turmoil of emotions curdling the edges of Dean’s mind.

 _(If it’s any consolation, I’ve barely been able to bring myself to do even that.)_ His thoughts are soft and fleeting before he turns away, attempting to roll the chair back from the table on his own.

Surprise flares bright through the kin-connection and Dean sits up sharply. A tumble of emotions jams the channels and Castiel isn’t sure if Dean is pleased by this information or if he’s upset by it. The remainder of the clean up, before they finish filling the dishwasher and Jess starts it, is filled with Castiel continuing his story.

Jess is excited when he says that he is an uncle and shares images of Gabriel’s children. Sam is jealous that fin-kin females only carry the eggs for barely a month before they’re expelled into the nest. He expresses that sentiment silently in the kin-connection and Castiel thinks that has something to do with Jess being pregnant, although he doesn’t fully understand why.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to meet your family?” Jess asks as they all settle in the couch-room after the kitchen is cleaned. “If they want to, that is.”

 _(I would like that very much. Anna and Balthazar heard my stories about you all long before the rest of my siblings, but I know at least Anna would want to meet you.)_ Castiel stretches his tail across the couch while Dean moves the wheelchair out of the way.

He curls his tail under him and waits for Dean to come to sit down. When he does, Castiel sends one image into the kin-connection. Surprise and delight intermingle and at the last moment, Dean settles in the middle of the couch instead of at the opposite end. Castiel drapes his tail over Dean’s lap and curls it around his hips, tucking the end between his back and the couch. Dean’s hands rest over his scales, fingers pressing against his adipose fins.

Castiel’s recounting of his past continues straight up until the moment that he arrived in the cove. By the time he is done, it is already dark outside and Jess is smothering a yawn with every other breath. She kisses him on the cheek before saying goodnight, murmuring quietly that it’s nice to have him back.

“So what now?” Sam looks at them from his place on the other couch. “And I don’t just mean what are we going to do right now, I meant with you two.”

“Now I earn back Cas’s trust while hoping to win over his colony with my charming personality so they don’t ban him from here or exile him from there.” Dean forces a smile but Castiel can feel his stagnant nervousness in the kin-connection. His colony is the unknown element in whatever future they might have together. He twitches the end of his tail against Dean’s back in a reassuring stroke, matching it with a gentle touch through the kin-connection.

“If there’s anything that Jess and I can do to help, let us know. We want you both to be happy. We always have, y’know that, right?” They nod in sync and Sam rolls his eyes, stifling his own yawn. “Whatever. I’m going to bed too. Try not to sleep in so late tomorrow morning. We’ve only got one more day here.”

They bid Sam goodnight as well and he heads up the stairs grumbling about something Castiel can’t here and he isn’t translating it through the kin-connection. Before he reaches the top of the stairs, Castiel cuts the link with both him and Jess and he sinks into Dean’s emotions. They’re still twisting with nerves, but they’re bright and very awake.

 _(Is there anything else that you would like to know?)_ Castiel tilts his head to catch Dean’s eye. _(While we’re more or less on the topic?)_

 _(Nothing I can think of.)_ Dean starts drumming his fingers on his tail and his gaze slips over Castiel’s shoulder. _(I’m not all that sleepy yet. You want to go swimming?)_

Castiel’s fans flare and he sits up straighter, anticipation already starting to vibrate in his veins. He can count on one hand the number of times Dean has been in the water with him to actually swim for enjoyment. It is a number that is far too small for his liking. This time there is no blue-white cast to keep Dean from swimming without a blue-sleeve.

He should stop to think about how the water might be too cold for Dean, or that it’s too dark for swimming now. But he can be bright enough for the both of them and he knows that Dean won’t stay in for long if he’s cold. The walls around his emotions lower enough to let his excitement through as an answer.

Dean grins and pats his tail. “Let me up so I can go get changed and then we’ll go.”

He uncurls from him quickly and waits patiently until Dean comes back. The moment Dean steps out of the bedroom, Castiel realizes this might not have been the best of ideas. Dean’s swim shorts are tied tightly around his waist, but he isn’t wearing a shirt and there is so much _skin_. Even under his shirt Dean is darker than Castiel remembers, but the tattoo is still stark on his chest above his heart and Castiel is reminded of the crudely carved symbol on his sleep-shelf. The urge to trace the black of the design like he has the lines in the stone before sleeping each night is incredibly strong.

Castiel swallows around a sudden tightness in his throat and forces himself to look away.

A few towels are pressed into his arms and Castiel holds onto them tightly, trying hard not to notice the press of Dean’s chest against his arm when he lifts him. He closes his eyes and repeats the teaching songs of his colony silent until they are outside and Dean is lowering him to sit at the edge of the floating-path.

Steady-blue is black above them and filled with more lights than Castiel can count. Stars. That’s what he remembers that humans call them. Pale-pearl is only half full tonight, but she rests above the edge of the cove and her light is bright in the dark. Castiel’s own glow is bright enough to see many steps in every direction and he’s confident that he will let no harm come to Dean in the dark of the cove.

“Just leave the towels there.” Dean gestures vaguely before linking his fingers and stretching his arms above his head. He flashes Castiel a quick grin and dives from the path without another word, disappearing under the water and surfacing with a gasp well outside of the limit of Castiel’s glow.

Castiel throws the towels aside without care for where they land and he slides from the floating-path with much less grace. Dean is already kicking across the surface of the cove and he dives toward the sandy bottom the moment Castiel gets close. The blue marks on his legs look like they’re dancing in Castiel’s glow and that floating feeling fills his chest again while that _mine_ feeling lines his ribs.

The walls around his mind slip more and more the longer they swim and Castiel doesn’t care that Dean can feel just how happy it makes him to be able to twist circles around him. All that matters to Castiel right now is that _Dean_ is here. Dean is here in the water with him and there is nothing that feels better than that.

At least, for this brief moment in time, Castiel doesn’t need to think about the colony. He doesn’t need to think about the future or the past. He can just be him. Here, with Dean, he doesn’t need to think before he catches Dean’s hands and pulls him to the surface to breathe. He doesn’t need to think before he flips beneath him and drags his scales or his hands over _his_ marks along Dean’s legs.

Right now, Castiel lets go of his reservations and for the first time in a very long time, he can be himself. He can let Dean hold his waist while he swims as fast as he can from one side of the cove to the other until Dean can’t hold on anymore, the resistance of the water too strong for him. He can let himself laugh until the cove walls echo with the mingled sounds of his voice and Dean’s.

He doesn’t need to think before he tangles his tail with Dean’s legs. He keeps them both floating with the rolls of his adipose fins and the back-forth swipe of Dean’s hands under the surface. He doesn’t think before he lays his hand over where his bite mark was once raised scabs. Now it is little more than white lines indented on Dean’s shoulder.

And, right now, when he is being himself without any fears or uncertainties, he can kiss Dean without worrying for the future or about what his colony will think. He can kiss Dean, because in the cool waters of the cove under the light of pale-pearl, it is just them and it is what _he_ wants. 

 


	43. Another Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is happy to see Dean again. He’s happy to get to touch him, smell him, and feel him through the kin-connection. He’s happy – overjoyed to the point that he’s not even sure how to react – that Dean is here now, that he’s built this home for them. He’s happy just to be here – happier than he’s been in a long time. Castiel had been content with his family and his life in the colony since he returned home. But it’s… It’s _different_ with Dean.
> 
> It’s _always_ been different with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: samkatdiz, days-of-dust, 221stepstobakerstreet, thelittlearchangelthatcould, deanandsamgirl, cribbypls, apentomyheadandimdead, cas-hasthepolicebox, barty-has-the-tardis, angelphile, valitiel, and engaru 
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

Kissing Dean again feels like _heat_ in his veins, burning under his skin and scales.

Dean goes still against him. Even his hands stop moving in the water. A sharp _want_ pulses hard and bright through the kin-connection, but Castiel can feel how much Dean is restraining himself. He can feel it in how tensely Dean holds himself and he’s not holding anything back in the kin-connection. Dean is open to him in all ways and Castiel _knows_ he’s holding himself back.

And he doesn’t want that. Not right now – not when Castiel is happy, not when he _wants_. He slides his hand from Dean’s shoulder, pausing only to brush his thumb against the scars, and over his back. His other hand comes up to meet between Dean’s shoulder blades. Castiel untangles his tail from Dean’s legs and leisurely beats it, sending them in a gentle glide back toward the floating-path. If he’s going to keep kissing Dean, he wants it someplace where he doesn’t have to worry about keeping them floating.

He doesn’t stop kissing him. Castiel presses gentle little kisses to Dean’s mouth and tries coaxing a response with little licks along his lips. Dean doesn’t react completely, not in the way that Castiel wants him to. His eyes slide closed and his arms fold around Castiel’s neck, fingers digging into his hair. But each kiss is barely pressed into, barely chased after. He’s still holding himself back and Castiel doesn’t know _why,_ even with the kin-connection so open to him.

A needy noise escapes him and Castiel kisses harder, trying not to press his claws into Dean’s skin. He doesn’t want to hurt him and he half wishes that his claws were blunt again. It would be easier to touch Dean without worrying about scratching him. Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair and that desperate _want_ sears through the kin-connection again.

“Dean.”Castiel whispers his name between kisses and Dean twitches, sucking in a sharp breath against his lips. _(Stop holding back.)_

A quiet groan sounds in the back of Dean’s throat. _(I’ll stop when you stop.)_ He tugs at Castiel’s hair again, forcing his head back. _(There’s more that I want from you than just this.)_

Warmth pulses around every word as an example and Castiel barely stops himself from making another needy noise. He wants to give that to Dean. He wants to give him anything that he’s asking for but he _can’t_. He needs more time, he needs to know that Dean won’t hurt him again like he did before. That Dean won’t _leave_ him again.

Dean presses one kiss to his lips – one burning kiss that he keeps Castiel from following, drawing a groan from him. _(I’ll kiss you as much as you want when you can trust me again.)_

 _(But what if I want to kiss you?)_ Castiel presses his fingertips harder into Dean’s back, trying to pull him in again. _(I want this. I want you.)_

 _(But you don’t trust me, Cas.)_ Dean pulls back, gripping Castiel’s arms to try and push them away. They are only a few tail lengths away from the floating-path and Dean flips onto his back to watch Castiel while he paddles toward it. _(We were having fun and you’re feeling good from that, I get it. I’m the same. But if we do anything tonight and you wake up tomorrow regretting it because you weren’t ready, or you think I was taking advantage of you –)_

 _(I can make my own decisions, Dean.)_ Castiel frowns at him before he dips beneath the surface to swim under him and come up on the other side of the floating-path where the railings are. _(You’re not taking advantage of me in any way.)_

 _(I’m not going to take that chance, Cas. I want you to trust me and doing anything more before you’re actually ready for it won’t help that.)_ Dean pulls himself up onto the path with barely any effort. His thoughts are just as torn on the subject as Castiel’s and he hesitates before crouching at the other edge of the floating-path to help him out of the water. _(And I’m not trying to blackmail you or anything with trust for kisses. In case that’s what you’re thinking.)_

Castiel loops an arm around Dean’s shoulders while he lifts him fully onto the floating-path. He doesn’t let go when Dean does, tugging him down to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean’s grip on his arm tightens painfully and Castiel can feel Dean’s resolve slipping as much as his own is. They both want the kisses and everything that follows – but Dean wants more than Castiel thinks he’s ready to give and this is all so much more _frustrating_ than it needs to be.

He frowns at Dean over his shoulder while he uses the towel to pat dry Castiel’s back-fans and leaves him to dry his tail. He frowns at him while Dean wraps a towel around his own waist and uses the extra towel to dry himself as much as possible. Castiel knows that Dean wants him to drop the barriers too, that Dean wants the warmth before they can be physical again. And Castiel wants to give him that, but there’s – there is so much _pain_ holding him back.

Castiel is happy to see Dean again. He’s happy to get to touch him, smell him, and feel him through the kin-connection. He’s happy – overjoyed to the point that he’s not even sure how to react – that Dean is her now, that he’s built this home for them. He’s happy just to be here – happier than he’s been in a long time. Castiel had been content with his family and his life in the colony since he returned home. But it’s… It’s _different_ with Dean.

It’s _always_ been different with him.

While Dean carries him back up the stairs and to the bedroom, Castiel thinks. He thinks about Dean and what he’s asking for. He thinks about what they both want and if it’s the same – unsurprisingly it is. But that doesn’t erase all the hurt that Castiel carries and he’s not sure if Dean will be able to alleviate him of it. Castiel wants him to, he wants to let it all go but – it’s terrifying.

How is _this_ scarier than it was six seasons ago?

Dean leaves Castiel on the bed while he changes in the bathroom and brushes his teeth. Castiel still doesn’t like that Dean is withholding the kisses when that’s what he wants. He lays on his stomach, head turned away from the bathroom door. The end of his tail hangs over the edge of the bed, twitching side to side while he thinks. Even though he slept here last night, the bed completely smells like Dean and it’s doing nothing to help the magma curling in his gut. He _wants_ like he hasn’t wanted in seasons and it’s frustrating – annoying – why won’t Dean just –

 _(Do you mind if I don’t wear a shirt tonight?)_ Dean’s thoughts touch cautiously at the walls around his mind and Castiel has to muffle a frustrated groan into the pillow. _(I don’t know how I didn’t overheat while I was sleeping last night.)_

Hot-cold chases over Castiel’s ribs and the spines of his back-fans flex against the blanket weighing down on them. _(Do what you want.)_

Exasperation curls through the kin-connection and the light from the bathroom turns off, leaving Castiel’s glow and the alarm clock as the only light in the bedroom. _(C’mon, Cas, don’t be mad at me. Is it so bad that I want_ you _before everything else?)_

Castiel turns onto his side when Dean climbs into the bed, facing the bathroom instead of him. Dean’s frustration grows and he sighs heavily, the blanket tugging up sharply as he gets comfortable. They lay in silence, Castiel’s back to Dean and he doesn’t know what Dean is doing, but the kin-connection is full of irritation, confusion and something a little like desperation. Castiel can feel it in their link, sharp and wanting. Dean _wants_ to do everything that he wants, but he doesn’t want to do more than what Castiel is actually ready for – even if Castiel thinks that he’s ready for it.

Impulse – that’s the thought that keeps twisting in Dean’s head. He thinks that Castiel only wants the kisses now because it is on _impulse_. He thinks that it’s what Castiel wants _now_ but not what he’s going to want in the morning. Even though Castiel understands, he’s still not happy that Dean won’t kiss him. Dean was completely okay with kissing his forehead earlier. Why is kissing him properly any different?

The kin-connection lies mostly silent between them, filled only with the thoughts that slip through from Dean’s mind. Castiel is still holding back so much – holding back everything that Dean wants. He twists onto his stomach slowly, turning to face Dean again. His back is to Castiel, shoulders hunched and one of the pillows bunched up under his head.

It takes several long minutes of staring at Dean’s back before Castiel comes to a decision. _(Can we have another trial?)_

Dean looks over his shoulder before he rolls over to face him. _(What kind of trial?)_

 _(I want more and you want more in the same way but in different ways too. There are some things I know I’m not ready to give you yet, but everything else –)_ Castiel asks, slowly placing his hand between them, his palm up. _(Tomorrow, I’ll share everything that I’m ready for.)_

 _(And what’s the ‘trial’ part of this?)_ Dean takes a moment before he fits his palm to Castiel’s, fingers pressing in on Castiel’s webbing.

 _(The kisses. You think I’m not ready for more, and I think I am.)_ Castiel squeezes his fingers between his own. _(For this trial I’ll stop blocking almost everything and you’ll stop holding back on the kisses.)_

Dean snorts and a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. _(I’m still not seeing where the trial in this is.)_

 _(The trial is limited to tomorrow.)_ Castiel pulls his tail fully onto the bed, shifting it under the blanket until he can curl the end around Dean’s ankle. He can’t feel Dean’s tattoos, but Castiel knows they’re there and it makes his scales tingle to touch them. _(If it’s too much too soon and I need more time, then we’ll stop and go back to how we were today until I’m_ _ready. Does that sound acceptable?)_

He sighs softly and tugs Castiel’s hand closer, turning it to press a kiss to his knuckles. _(Yeah, Cas. That sounds acceptable. I’ll try whatever will help you trust me again.)_

 _(Can I have a kiss now?)_ He allows a pulse of hope to curl over the walls, lining it with the warmth he knows that Dean wants.

 _(You’re still addicted to kisses, huh? You haven’t changed a bit.)_ He huffs a laugh and props himself up on his elbow, leaning across the bed.

Dean lets go of Castiel’s hand long enough to cup the side the side of his face and the edge of his jaw. Castiel sits up to press into the kiss, a gentle brush of lips that tastes more like the toothpaste Castiel hasn’t tasted in seasons than it does Dean. Even the kisses in the cove had tasted like the sea. He hasn’t tasted _Dean_ and having him right there, lips moving against his in a touch that never settles between a hard or soft touch, and not being able to taste him is driving Castiel crazy.

When Dean pulls away, Castiel doesn’t stop the quiet whine in the back of his throat. Dean lays back on his side of the bed and finds his hand again. Castiel settles into the pillows and squeezes Dean’s fingers, lowering the walls enough to continue to pulse satisfaction through the kin-connection. He gets waves of happiness in answer.

_(Go to sleep, Cas. We can do that again in the morning.)_

Castiel strokes the end of his tail over the marks on Dean’s leg. _(Goodnight, Dean.)_

He’s woken up hours later by a high pitched, repetitive noise. Dean wakes up too, reaching over Castiel to turn off the alarm. He drops a kiss to Castiel’s forehead and Castiel lets the walls slip a little, too sleepy to focus for more. The moment his grateful thoughts touch Dean’s, any sleep fog around Dean’s mind dissipates and he smiles widely in the light of Castiel’s sleep-dimmed glow.

The move from the bed to the floor is not as slow or controlled as Castiel would have liked. He slides to the floor with a thump that makes Dean huff quiet laughs all the way into the bathroom where he fills the spray bottle. Castiel yawns and rubs at his eyes until Dean comes back. When Dean tells him to, Castiel stretches his tail out and fully extends his fans for the spray of water.

A cautious curiosity flows around an image of hands on webbing and Casitel hums his approval, flaring his fans into Dean’s hands. He leans into the touch as Dean works the water into his webbing with one hand while spraying with the other. When Dean helps him back onto the bed, Castiel gets another kiss to his forehead as he tucks the blanket around his shoulders.

Castiel reaches for him the moment Dean climbs back into bed, not even waiting for him to get settled. That is the last memory he has until he’s rudely jerked from sleep by Jess banging on the door and shouting something about breakfast. There’s a heavy weight resting comfortably on his chest and Castiel is warmer than he’s been in a very long time. Slowly, he lets the sleep walls fade, taking with them the remainder of the walls that kept all his emotions hidden.

He lets his thoughts stretch out through the kin-connection, flitting along the edge of Dean’s mind gently to make sure that Dean is awake. His thoughts are bright and alive and aside from the normal walls that hide his most private of thoughts – the walls that even Dean still has – everything is open. The only thing that Castiel keeps from the kin-connection is the warmth. He can let that out in small pulses, but it’s the one thing that he _can’t_ give to Dean yet.

There’s only a brief curl of disappointment before warmth and happiness floods the link and Castiel can feel the press of what he thinks might be a kiss to his collarbone. _(Time to wake up, Cas.)_

He hums and rubs his hands down Dean’s back, fingers playing over the movement of muscles as Dean shifts, his legs rubbing against Castiel’s scales where his tail is twisted between and around them. Castiel groans at the cold air that fills the space between Dean’s chest and his when Dean pushes himself up, and he curls over, trying to follow the heat.

_(Jess said breakfast is going to be ready in ten minutes. Let’s get up, brush our teeth, and go join them.)_

_(I don’t want to.)_ He turns his face into the pillow, twisting to lay on his stomach and tuck his arms between his chest and the bed. Castiel remembers how much he hated having to brush his teeth. It always tasted like blood when he was done and it was annoying and useless, especially when he could just go for a swim to clean his mouth with the salt sea instead.

Dean laughs and presses a kiss to the base of his side-fan. _(If you do it, I’ll kiss you with tongue after.)_

 _(I thought you said that you weren’t going to use kisses to blackmail me into things.)_ His tail is still twisted around Dean’s leg and he tightens it in reprimand until Dean jiggles his legs to shake him off.

 _(No, what I said was that I wasn’t going to use it to blackmail you into opening up in the kin-connection. Everything else is fair game.)_ Another kiss, this time to his temple. _(C’mon. You can brush your teeth after you soak down in the shower.)_

Castiel grumbles the entire way from the bed to the enclosed alcove of the shower, his cheek resting on Dean’s shoulder and his arms hanging uselessly at his sides while Dean carries him, an arm under the fold of his tail and another around his back. The only thing he does to help is to keep his tail around Dean’s waist so it doesn’t hang to the floor and trip him up.

Dean leaves him under the cool spray of the shower behind the glass door while he goes back to the bedroom to change his clothes. Castiel tilts his face into the spray and lets the cool water wake him up. When Dean comes back, he sits up on the curl of his tail so he can reach the knobs and turn them off. There are towels already spread on the floor when Castiel pushes open the door. He slides out of the shower alcove and uses the towels to pat-dry himself again while Dean prepares the toothbrushes.

Again, Dean helps lift him – this time to the empty space on the ledge. He hands him a black and blue toothbrush and seems completely unaffected by Castiel’s glare as he starts brushing his own teeth with a green toothbrush. There is a cup on the ledge next to the sink’s knobs and spout that holds two more toothbrushes, one yellow and the other clear. 

_(Are those for Sam and Jess?)_

_(Yeah. They’ll take them when they leave tomorrow morning.)_

That’s when Castiel realizes that Dean already had a toothbrush prepared just for him. He lets a pulse of warmth escape for that realization. Dean snatches it from the kin-connection immediately, saving it away like he has all the other little wisps Castiel has allowed him to feel.

Castiel tastes the first bit of blood while he’s brushing his teeth when something occurs to him. _(Why are we brushing our teeth if they’re just going to get dirty right away when we eat?)_

Amusement flares through the kin-connection and Dean grins around his toothbrush, gesturing for Castiel to continue brushing. _(Sam and Jess know that we went swimming last night and they’re going to be insufferable. We’re doing this right now so we can kiss before going out to face those two. It’ll tide us over until after breakfast.)_

Castiel nearly swallows his mouthful of toothpaste, his surprise washing over Dean’s enjoyment. Dean finishes with his teeth before Castiel does and he washes his face in that brief period of time. Castiel rinses his mouth out with the cup of water that Dean hands him and after he spits, he crinkles his nose at the strange taste of the toothpaste. It makes his nose feel cleared and his tongue tingles.

Dean laughs as he steps over to stand in front of Castiel, his hands resting on either side of his hips on the ledge. The ledge is low enough that Dean is practically straddling Castiel’s tail where it folds over the edge. Castiel fists his fingers in the short sleeved shirt Dean wears, crinkling the design and the words he doesn’t recognize on its front.

He pulls Dean forward and muffles a pleased noise into the first kiss. Relief and want and pleasure curl brightly through the kin-connection as Dean sags into him, his hands moving to Castiel’s hips. Dean drags him closer to the edge of the ledge and Castiel’s grip on his shirt moves to his back, careful to keep his claws from ripping into it.

They start with gentle kisses, each one lasting longer than the other until Dean makes that first swipe – licking lightly at Castiel’s lips. His hands end up in Dean’s hair after that, holding Dean still as the kisses get deeper. It’s like Castiel is swallowing heat instead of air and it’s burning down through his chest to curl hot and shivering in his gut, searing under his scales until it’s filling him completely and singing through his veins.

This isn’t just one kiss, but it feels like it is. It feels like one kiss has him like this; has his hands almost trembling against Dean’s back. It feels like one kiss already has him _wanting_ enough that the muscles of his sheath are starting to twitch. There’s the overpowering taste of the toothpaste, but there’s a hint of the taste that he’s after – the taste specific to Dean. It has Castiel making little noises in the back of his throat that he hasn’t made in seasons – quiet, choked off moans, soft little purrs and whines.

Castiel feels out of practice. He feels like he’s falling into the kisses without care for what he’s doing or the sounds he’s making. Dean seems more than happy to teach him again, but he stops the moment Castiel’s desire – his arousal – hits the kin-connection. He pulls back slowly, teeth dragging at Castiel’s bottom lip. It’s only Dean’s hands on Castiel’s shoulders that keeps him from following, from licking the toothpaste taste from his mouth so it’s only Dean’s taste left.

“Breakfast time.” Dean murmurs, his hand coming up to touch the side of Castiel’s face, thumb stroking the scales on his cheek. “We can do more of that later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Castiel echoes, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. He slides further forward on the ledge until he’s closer to Dean, until he can curl his tail around his waist and trail kisses along his jaw. His arms find their way around Dean’s shoulders and Castiel press his face to his neck, barely resisting the urge to kiss along the collar of his shirt and suck marks into his skin over one of the most vulnerable parts of him.

It takes a bit of maneuvering for Dean to get the door open while he carries him like this, but they do eventually make it out into the hallway. Even with Dean’s scent filling his scenes, Castiel can still smell the tantalizing aroma of breakfast in the air. Dean takes him to the couch-room first, to where the wheelchair is pushed up against the shelves. As loath as he is to let go, Castiel consents to being put down in exchange for another quick kiss.

Jess and Sam didn’t bother waiting for them before they started eating. Castiel makes the kin-connection with the both of them before Dean has even wheeled him into place at the table. For Castiel, it’s fish for breakfast again and he pulse gratitude at both Sam and Jess for preparing it for him. There is a large plate in the center of the table full of pale, thick, round things. He’s seen them before, but the name escapes him. The oblong, tube-like, brown things that are piled on another plate is – Castiel thinks –  supposed to be meat, judging by the mouthwatering scent. They are completely new to him.

 _(Pancakes and breakfast sausages.)_ Dean supplies, answering Castiel’s curiosity.

He moves four of the pancakes to his plate, setting three to one side and using his fork and knife to slice the fourth into even pieces. He repeats the process with the sausages. Castiel shares his delight with everyone when Dean holds his plate over Castiel’s plate and pushes all the cut up pieces onto his. While Dean pours a viscous brown liquid over his pancakes, Castiel separates his fish pieces from the pancake and sausage pieces, keeping those separate from each other too.

Dean pours some of the liquid in a corner of Castiel’s plate. _(It’s really sticky and pretty sweet, so I’m not sure how much you’ll like it. But just dip the pancake into the syrup and give it a shot.)_

 _(Thank you.)_ Castiel tries the syrup on its own first, smudging the tip of a claw along the puddle’s edge. It’s extremely sweet – more so than the sweet-snails that Gabriel adores. If he can ever convince his brother to leave the safety of the trench to come visit here, he thinks Gabriel would do absolutely anything for all the sweet things that humans have.

He ends up finishing the pancake pieces before he even touches his fish, using all the fluffy little squares to wipe up the entire puddle of syrup from his plate. Anything leftover gets swept up with pieces of sausage. True to Dean’s words, his fingers are left extremely sticky afterward. No matter how much he licks and sucks at them, they don’t get any less sticky and it’s making his webbing stick in fold when he closes his fingers together.

A frantic plea rises in the kin-connection stemming from Dean’s mind. It’s tinged with want, heat and frustration. _(Dude, Cas, you’re torturing me here.)_

Castiel glances at him, the end of a finger still in his mouth.  Dean is studiously staring down at his plate, his movements measured and steady. But there is a flush spreading down his neck and the edges of his ears are going red. It takes a moment for Castiel to understand and when he does, he lets his hand fall from his mouth, a small “Oh.” falling with it.

 _(Yeah._ Oh _.)_ Dean stabs a little more viciously at one of the sausages. _(You weren’t the only one who got juiced up from that kiss.)_

“So –” Jess starts and both Castiel and Dean flinch on reflex. In the last day Castiel has learned that if Jess’s sentences start with that word it is generally a question designed to make one or both of them think about their relationship, or it’s to tease them. Judging by the smile on her face and how she’s waving a speared piece of pancake around in nonsensical designs, it’s likely the latter. “We heard you two go swimming last night.”

Sam doesn’t say anything and his expression is indifferent. He does get up and get a damp cloth which he gives to Castiel to clean his hands with. Castiel sends a flicker of gratitude at him for it.

Dean tries to compose himself again, sitting up straighter and acting like the news is nothing special. “Yeah, what about it?”

“How long were you out there?” She rests her elbow on the table and holds her chin in her hand, chewing on her pancake slowly while watching them. Sam still seems supremely – _suspiciously_ \- uninterested by the entire topic.

“Fifteen – twenty minutes. No more than thirty.” Dean shrugs. “We just got some exercise to tire us out a bit since we weren’t all that sleepy.”

Her smile only gets wider and Jess raises only her index and middle finger of the other hand. She curls and uncurls them around certain words as she speaks. “Oh, yes. ‘ _Exercise’_. I’m sure you were really tuckered out after that, huh?”

“We didn’t have sex.” Dean says it flatly, disapproval curling sharply through the kin-connection.

Castiel nearly chokes on the piece of fish he’d been swallowing at the time, unprepared for Dean to be so blatant about something that Castiel wasn’t even aware was being implied. Sam simply reaches across the table and pushes the glass of water sitting near the top of Castiel’s plate closer. He takes several sips of it before he thinks he’s ready to be able to eat – let alone breathe – again.

Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have even noticed. Her bottom lip is sticking out in a pout and she’s almost _glaring_ at Dean. “Well, then, what _did_ you two do last night?”

 _(We were swimming.)_ Castiel answers, slightly confused why Jess doesn’t believe Dean. _(We swam and I kissed Dean. Then we came back inside and went to bed.)_

“Hah!” Sam slams his hand down on the table.

Both Castiel and Dean flinch at the sound but Jess only slumps further in her seat. She crosses her arms and glares across the table at them and now Castiel is even more confused than before. He lets the emotion fill all three links of the kin-connection, but even Dean doesn’t know what’s going on. Dean’s confusion doesn’t clear until Sam turns to Jess and holds out his hand.

“Told you. Pay up.”

“That’s not fair – you had an inside man.”

“No, I just know Dean better than you. You’re the one who made the crappy bet, now pay up.”

Dean lays his fork down gently next to his plate. The calm in the kin-connection is almost frightening and Castiel glances between all three of the them. What rare occasions he’s had where his entire nest has been gathered for meals, Castiel remembers them being silent – though comfortable – affairs. Even if Balthazar and Gabriel spoke a lot, it was never in the manner that Sam and Jess are hissing at one another and no one had ever had something like a _battle-calm_ settling in their minds.

“Did you two place bets on what Cas and I were going to do last night?” Dean asks slowly, his voice deceptively even. It’s enough of a warning for Jess to stop frowning at Sam and for Sam to stop grinning back at her. Instead, they both look at Dean, eyes wide as if their bet was meant to be a secret the whole time.

Neither of them try to deny it and Sam slowly pushes his chair back from the table. “Well, I should get started on packing for tomorrow. I don’t want to accidentally forget anything like last time.”

Jess grabs his arm before he can stand up. “Don’t you dare abandon your pregnant wife.”

“It’s not abandoning, it’s strategy. Best way to outrun a tiger is to outrun the other person.” Sam pats her hand. “I’ll always remember you fondly.”

Even though Castiel doesn’t fully understand what’s currently taking place, he is rather amused with what’s going on. Especially when Dean stands up and both Sam and Jess look at him sharply. The closest thing to fear he’s felt from them since he arrived filters into the kin-connection. Sam pulls Jess from the chair quickly the moment Dean reaches for the syrup container. They’re gone and around the corner, their footsteps heavy on the stairs, before he’s even straightened his shoulders.

_(What was that all about?)_

“They were making bets on how long it would take us to start fucking again.” Dean frowns down at the bottle in his hand, and then he raises his voice loud enough for them to be able to hear him upstairs. “Maybe I’ll just make them _walk_ to town tomorrow morning!”

 _(Tomorrow morning?)_ Castiel frowns. He knew that Sam and Jess were going to be leaving tomorrow, but did it have to be so early?

 _(Yeah, I’m going to have to take them to town in the boat around sunrise. The morning ferry to the mainland leaves pretty early.)_ Dean shrugs and starts piling the empty dishes onto his plate. _(I’m going to get a little shopping in after they’re gone on the ferry, is there anything that you want?)_

Castiel finishes the last of his fish, chewing slowly. _(I don’t know human things.)_

 _(I meant like food, they’ve got different kinds of fish in the market there. They won’t exactly be fresh, but you could have variety.)_ He takes Castiel’s plate and adds it to the pile in front of him. There are a few pancakes and sausages left over and he puts all of those together on one plate. _(Or are there any of our foods that you want to try again? If I don’t have them here, I can get them tomorrow.)_

Although he doesn’t remember the names, Castiel remembers what the foods looked like. He holds the stack of plates that Dean gives him and he carefully doesn’t let them teeter or fall when Dean pulls the wheelchair out from the table and pushes him to the dishwasher. Castiel shares the images of the food he’d like to try again as he hands one plate at a time to Dean so he can place them in the dishwasher. It’s very nearly full and after Dean puts the glasses in, he gets a blue and white rock from a box in one of the cupboards.

Castiel watches closely as Dean puts the rock into a little hole in the door of the dishwasher. A cover slides into place over the hole and Dean shuts the dishwasher with a click. He grabs the edge of the bucket where Castiel’s tail rests to pull him closer and he points at one of the few buttons on the front of the dishwasher, close to the handle.

“Push that.”

He does and immediately the dishwasher makes a rushing sound. Castiel pulls his hand back sharply and Dean grins at him. _(And that is how we turn it on. Give it an hour and the dishes will be cleaned. Then I’ll show you where they go.)_

_(What was the blue-white rock that you put in it?)_

_(The dish-soap.)_ Dean gets the only plate left with the food on it and he leaves it on the ledge above the dishwasher while he gets a long, thin box from one of the drawers. Castiel watches as he pulls a thin, clear paper from the box, tears it, and uses it to cover the food. _(It’s plastic wrap. It’ll keep the pancakes from drying out and someone is probably going to snack on these later between lunch and supper.)_

The plate goes in the fridge and Dean takes a moment to wipe the table down with a damp cloth. _(I already have hamburgers and French fries, but you want chicken and mashed potatoes? Come on, we’ll make a list.)_

Castiel manages to roll himself a little ways across the kitchen before Dean steps up behind the chair and pushes him the rest of the way into the couch-room. Dean gets his notebook again before they settle together on the couch. Today Dean is wearing loose gray pants that cover his legs. The moment Dean is seated at his end of the couch, feet planted on the couch cushions to keep his knees drawn up from him to balance the notebook on while he writes, Castiel slides closer.

Surprise flares sharply through the kin-connection when Castiel pushes the legs of his pants up until the pants are bunched at Dean’s knees. _(What are you doing?)_

He doesn’t bother to answer with words, letting his fascination with the markings slide into the kin-connection instead. Castiel traces his fingers and the points of his claws over the four circles from the top of Dean’s foot to the first solid band of colour. Although Castiel’s bands are made up of several small dots, he likes that Dean’s still looks like his pattern. Dean doesn’t say anything while Castiel traces the band, the next circle, the middle band, the highest and biggest circle, and the top most band of his left leg before he moves to tracing the pattern on his right leg – knowing that the design is on the back of his legs too.

Dean doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, until Castiel dips his head and presses a kiss to the largest circle. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat and slowly places the notebook and pen on the back of the couch. His legs move, the left pressing into the back of the couch and his right foot thuds against the floor. Castiel wastes no time in taking their place, push-pulling himself into the space they made as Dean slides a little further down in his seat – laying more than he is sitting now.

The kisses turn deeper far faster than it did in the bathroom earlier. Castiel licking his way in almost immediately. The taste of breakfast still lingers, but he tastes like Dean again and Castiel loses himself to it. He wedges his hands in the space between Dean’s back and the couch and makes little humming sounds into the kisses as Dean’s hands find all the places along the edges of his back-fans that makes them spread wide of their own accord.

Castiel has no idea how much time has passed when he finally pulls away, lips tingling and tasting like Dean when he licks them. There’s heat and warmth and joy singing through the kin-connection, radiating from Dean’s mind and he looks relaxed and happy, eyes hooded and an easy smile tilting his mouth upward.

Dean’s thumb rubs over the scales on his cheek and his smile grows. _(I missed you, Cas.)_

He can’t help the small smile that pulls at his own lips and Castiel dips his head to press a softer, gentler kiss to Dean’s smile. _(I missed you too.)_

There are more kisses after that, but none as heated as the first. One of Dean’s hands stays on the back of Castiel’s neck, fingers occasionally brushing into his hair. The other lays heavy in the small of his back. Castiel lays completely on Dean’s chest once Dean slid completely down to lay fully on the couch. He has one arm folded above Dean’s head, fingers twisted in his hair while his other hand cups Dean’s face. There’s an ignored beat of arousal thrumming lazily through the kin-connection, but neither of them acknowledge it. For Castiel, it’s nothing but a slightly annoying itch under his scales that begs him, every once in a while, to roll his hips.

As much as Castiel would like to do that, he knows taking anything with Dean in that direction is too much too soon for him. Kisses are different. They’re safe and easy and it’s just not the same as _that_. As personal as kissing is, it isn’t nearly as personal as opening himself like that and completely losing himself in Dean’s body. Castiel isn’t sure he’ll be able to do that unless he trusts Dean entirely again.

Eventually they do stop and Castiel slides down to tuck his arms along either side of Dean’s chest. He rests his cheek over Dean’s heart, listening to the steady beat. Dean fumbles for the notebook and he grumbles when he knocks it from the back of the couch and it almost falls on his head. He writes his shopping while holding the notebook upright, the bottom pressing into Castiel’s shoulder.

“Chicken. Potatoes. What if I see some fancy fish like a squid or something? You want that?” Dean’s voice rumbles through his chest under Castiel’s head.

He closes his eyes and curls his fingers in Dean’s shirt, enjoying the moment. _(Yes, please.)_

It’s not a very long list because Dean doesn’t have very much room for food that needs to be kept cold or frozen. For the majority of the month, Dean is the only one who lives out here and he doesn’t need much space to keep food. Especially if what he makes doesn’t have leftovers. Castiel wonders, privately, how that would change if he came to live here with Dean. That leads him to thinking about how he could split his time between here and the colony.

Technically, the colony only really needs him when he’s a part of the sentry rotation. With the war over, he helps out around the colony when he’s not on duty. But that’s all volunteer. He doesn’t have to help the weavers or the miners. Even tending the kelp forests is something warriors offer their help for.

With sentry duty, he spends one day on, one day off. And it changes every rotation whether he’s on duty for four days or three. With all the warriors in the colony, there are a few rotations between when it’s his turn. So really, Castiel could spend – what’s the human word for it again… week? – he could spend a week with the colony to perform his warrior duties, and then spend two weeks here with Dean before having to go back again. And if Dean wanted, he could come out on the boat and Castiel could spend his off days on the boat with him.

It takes a while for Castiel to realize just what he’s doing. He’s planning. After two days of seeing Dean again, he’s already planning on how to make room in his life for him. He hasn’t stopped to think about whether or not the council will even allow it. He hasn’t stopped to think about what the rest of the colony or his siblings will say. All he’s done is think about what _he_ wants and it’s the most selfish that Castiel has ever been.

And he doesn’t care. It feels good thinking about staying here with Dean. It feels nice thinking about being with Dean and letting him earn back his trust. For the first time, Castiel thinks about being with Dean and there not being a limit to their time together. And he likes that too. Just because he has to go back to the colony and give his report to the council doesn’t mean that he can’t return here.

If the council tells him that he’s not allowed to come back… Well, he’ll think about that later. He doesn’t want to let those thoughts take away how good he feels right now. Dean is warm beneath him, his heart beating steadily under Castiel’s cheek. His even breathing is relaxing and even the scratching sound of the pen on the paper is nice too. He’s still making the list, adding the things that he personally needs. 

 “Pie, Cas.” Dean’s voice interrupts his thoughts and Castiel lifts his head to rest his chin on Dean’s chest. “Tomorrow night I’m making you some pie. You’re going to eat it and you’re going to fucking _love_ it.”

Castiel smiles and lays his head back down. _(I’m sure I will.)_ He looks over the image of ‘pie’ that Dean supplied. _(What are you going to put in it?)_

 _(I’ll bring back some different kinds of fruit and you can try them all. Whichever one you like best we’ll make the pie out of.)_ Dean shifts, stretching to put the notebook on top of the back of the couch again. _(You want to help make it?)_

 _(Of course.)_ He stretches too, draping the end of his tail over the other end of the couch.

_(What do you want to do now?)_

Castiel hums and spreads his hands over Dean’s sides where they rest, stretching his fingers too. _(I don’t know. This is nice.)_

 _(It is. But we could still do this and watch a movie, or call Sam and Jess down and talk with them? It’s pretty mean of us to keep Sam cooped up with her. She’s crazy, y’know?)_ Dean’s hands find their way into Castiel’s hair, fingers seeking the spaces behind his side-fans that feels wonderful when rubbed. A purr starts rumbling at the base of Castiel’s throat as smug satisfaction raises in the kin-connection and Castiel realizes the purr was Dean’s goal.

 _(Or we could just kiss more and they can stay down here after lunch?)_ Dean offers after a few minutes.

Castiel doesn’t need to be asked twice. They shuffle on the couch – Dean nearly falling off at one point – as they rearrange themselves so Castiel is the one on his back, sort of. Rather than straddling his tail, Dean is laying mostly along the back of the couch while leaning over Castiel, his left arm being used like a pillow. His other arm is hooked around Castiel’s waist, fingers spread between his back-fans.

These kisses are slow and sweet and each one is seared through with the warmth that Dean fills the kin-connection with. Warmth and joy and a never ending litany of Castiel’s name. It fills him to the point he thinks it might overflow if Dean continues – but he never wants him to stop. Dean was never this open with the warmth before and it’s just as addicting as the heat of his body.

Just like six seasons ago, Castiel can’t get enough of it. His tail curls over and around Dean’s legs and he holds him in place with tight arms around his shoulders. Every kiss is a blow to the wall that keeps Castiel from releasing the warmth he feels, pulsing hard and desperate to be shared in his chest. He lets out wisps of it every so often, just to let Dean know that he still feels it – that he still cares for him.

Eventually, these kisses stop too and Dean ends up simply laying on Castiel, his face pressed to his gills. They only move shortly before lunch, when Dean has to use the bathroom and they decide it would be a good time to spray Castiel’s scales and webbing. He uses the bathtub again and offers to use the spray-spout himself, but Dean does it anyways.

_(It’s fine. I got it.)_

_(But you always do it. I can take care of myself too.)_ Castiel frowns over his shoulder, leaning forward and spreading his back-fans for Dean to get at those. _(You don’t have to do everything for me.)_

_(I know. I just like taking care of you. When was the last time you let someone do that for you?)_

_(The healers, back when I was wounded.)_ Castiel rubs his hands through the water on his arms. It’s only when he’s injured or sick that anyone would take care of him. Otherwise, it’s expected of an adult to care for themselves – especially warriors. The only thing he doesn’t often do himself is get food – unless he takes part in a hunt.

Dean’s forehead is crinkled when he hands towels over for Castiel to pat-dry himself before he moves back into the wheelchair. _(I can stop if you want – it’s just, kinda, second nature for me to take care of people. I did it for Sam for most of his life and I just like doing things for you –)_

 _(It’s fine, Dean.)_ Castiel reaches for him and Dean bends over for a hug and a lingering kiss. _(It’s nice knowing that you want to take care of me. And I do like it when you help with keeping my scales damp.)_

He grins and leans in to kiss Castiel once more before he stands up. _(Sugar coat it all you want, you just like it when I touch you.)_

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple at the subtle insinuation of what other ways Castiel likes Dean touching him. He can feel his cheeks get hot and Castiel dips his head, silently reprimanding Dean’s amusement in the kin-connection as he pushes the chair out of the bathroom.

They make lunch for Jess and Sam together. Dean heats some chicken soup on the black rings on the top of the stove, lifting Castiel from the chair when he asks to see what’s happening in the metal ‘pot’ that Dean poured the contents of a ‘can’ into. Castiel is given the job of preparing things for the flattened metal pot that Dean calls a ‘pan’. He’s given a blunt knife and a container of light yellow paste called ‘butter’. He spreads the butter onto one side of the eight slices of bread Dean laid out and unwraps eight slices of flat yellow squares that Dean reminds him is called ‘cheese’.

Dean lifts Castiel to sit on the ledge, far enough from the stove that he won’t get burned but close enough that he can watch while Dean makes two sandwiches at a time, laying the buttered side of the bread down first, placing two slices of cheese on the bread, and laying another slice of bread on top of that with the buttered side up. Once they’re browned on the other side and the cheese is starting to melt, Dean uses a stick with a wide flattened end – a ‘spatula’ – to flip them to crisp the other side.

 _(Can I try doing that?)_ Castiel asks when Dean hands him the spatula to hold while he uses a spoon to stir the soup.

There’s a nervous pulse of worry in the kin-connection and Dean glances from the pan where the sandwiches are making hissing noises and back at Castiel. “If you’re careful and only touch where I tell you to touch.”

For the last two sandwiches, Dean assembles them in the pan and Castiel gets to flip them when they’re ready. Dean holds the handle of the pan and he uses one finger to keep the sandwich from sliding away when Castiel tries to get the spatula under it. Each flip ends up skewed and Dean takes the spatula back to straighten them.

He helps Castiel back into the wheelchair and points out which drawer has the plates and bowls in it. Castiel gets out four small plates and four bowls at Dean’s insistence. Dean leaves the stove long enough to push him to the table so he can lay them out. The kin-connection with Jess and Sam was never broken, left to hang slack and silent between them. While Dean puts the food on the plates – getting Castiel’s fish slices from a container in the fridge – Castiel notifies Sam and Jess that lunch is ready.

Dean gives Castiel half a sandwich, the other half he takes for himself. When Sam and Jess come into the kitchen, Sam stops at the fridge to get a bottle full of red paste and a container full of sliced green and orange things. Dean says that they are cucumber and carrot slices. Castiel remembers carrots and pushes the container away when it’s passed to him. The red paste is called ‘ketchup’ and after watching Jess, Sam and Dean squirt some to one side of their plates to dip their sandwiches in, Castiel does it too.

He eats the fish while he waits for the rest of his food to cool off. Lunch is spent listening to stories about Sam and Jess’s wedding and the preparations they’re making for the babies. They don’t know if they’re going to have girls or boys, or one of each. Jess wants it to be a surprise. But they have names decided for either scenario. Mary and Sandy for girls, Paul and Robert for boys. They’ll pick the names from a hat if they end up with a girl and a boy.

 _(Wasn’t your mother’s name Mary?)_ Castiel asks Dean privately in the kin-connection.

There’s a burst of pride from Dean, pleased that Castiel remembered his mother’s name. _(Yeah. Mary and Robert for our mom and Bobby. Paul and Sandy for Jess’s grandparents.)_

_(Is it common to name your children after relatives?)_

_(It’s not unheard of, if that’s what you’re asking.)_ Dean shrugs and they go back to listening about the room they have prepared at their home and how Jess wants boys but Sam wants girls.

This time Sam and Jess clean up after lunch, but Dean and Castiel still stay to help empty the dishwasher. When everything is done, everyone goes to the living room and the rest of the day is spent watching movies. Dean does a fantastic job of translating everything for Castiel, but the majority of the movies is lost to him. He can understand the base story line, but there are so many things that Castiel has never seen before, so many things he’s never _thought_ of before.

The ships are different from any boat Castiel has ever seen and they _fly_ in steady-blue and beyond. Their weapons are made of things Castiel doesn’t even have names for. There’s men of metal and little things that beep and creatures Castiel has never fathomed existing – most of which, Dean says, aren’t actually real. It takes until the beginning of the third movie for Castiel to adjust to not thinking about the things he doesn’t understand and just enjoying what he sees happening and the story that unfolds.

They have a later supper than usual after the end of the third movie. Castiel’s supper is taken while he swims to stretch his muscles. Dean continues to share everything that’s happening while the others eat but the conversation is mostly boring – plans for tomorrow and what Sam and Jess should bring when they come to visit next month. It doesn’t escape Castiel’s notice that no one is mentioning whether or not he’ll be still be here at that time.

Dean carries him back inside not long after they’ve cleaned up from dinner and they watch two more movies. Jess leaves before the second is over so she can shower before going to bed. When she comes out of the bathroom, wearing what Dean says is called a ‘bathrobe’, she announces that if they’re going to be waking up earlier than usual then everyone should go to bed once the movie is over. Especially if some people will be showering – she stops and looks pointedly at both Sam and Dean then, ignoring their scandalized expressions – before they leave.

When the movie finishes, Sam stands and stretches. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Use the can now if you have to.”

Dean does after pushing Castiel and his wheelchair into the bedroom. Castiel says goodnight to both Jess and Sam before he severs the kin-connection with both of them. While Dean is in the bathroom, Castiel attempts to move from the bed to the couch on his own. He uses the same method he used to get to the couch the first time and it works just fine – this time with no Dean to laugh at him for it. He drags himself up fully onto the bed and wrestles with the blankets to get under them.

“Don’t get too comfortable, you still need to brush your teeth.” Dean says when he comes back from the bathroom, Castiel’s toothbrush in hand.

He pulses irritation at Dean the entire time that he does, and Dean has him spit into the bathroom’s garbage can when he’s done. The sounds from Sam’s shower can be heard while Dean changes – and Castiel tries not to notice that Dean only takes off his pants and his shirt, crawling into bed wearing only his undershorts after the lights are turned off.

 _(So… was today okay?)_ Dean asks, not laying back just yet. _(You said it was just a trial for today, so – I mean – was it – are you –)_ He makes a frustrated noise, irritation and worry tumbling together through the kin-connection as he pushes a hand through his hair.

Castiel lets out a quick, strong burst of the warmth and he reaches for Dean’s arm. He pulls him down and makes room for himself against Dean’s side, his cheek on his shoulder and his tail draped over his legs. _(Yes, Dean, today was more than okay. There’s no need for a trial anymore.)_

Relief floods their link and Dean turns into him, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s waist and the other around his shoulders as he presses his nose into his hair. After a few minutes of silence and getting comfortable, Castiel asks about tomorrow.

 _(Am I going to be going with you?)_ There’s a nervous twist in his belly at the thought of going to a place full of so many people. He doesn’t want to be around more people, but at the same time he doesn’t want to lose the kin-connection with Dean for any amount of time. Especially when, after he returns to the colony, he’s not sure how long it will be before he’ll be coming back.

 _(It’d be better if you didn’t. There are tons of fisherman out there, and kids are always swimming. Someone might see you.)_ Dean hugs him tighter, pressing gentle kisses into his hair as a wave of protectiveness washes through the kin-connection to soothe Castiel’s nerves. _(I could bring you on the boat and you could hide in the cabin, but I wouldn’t be able to take you onto the island and who knows if someone will board the boat or try and steal it or something. I don’t want to take that risk.)_

 _(Neither do I.)_ He just doesn’t want to lose the kin-connection so soon again and that emotion curls into the link slowly.

It’s reassuring to know that Dean feels the same way. _(It’ll only be for a few hours. No more than three, I promise. Trust me, with you waiting for me here I’m not going to waste any time dicking around talking to people. I’ll be back as fast as physically possible.)_

Castiel smiles against Dean’s skin. Yes. His trust in Dean is growing more and more with every passing moment. He’s open, and honest, answering any and all questions that Castiel asks. He’s full of hope and love and everything Castiel wants from him – wants to give him in return. Castiel is almost certain that, no matter what the council says, he’s going to return here.

He’s going to return to Dean. 


	44. Exploring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel is halfway done with his tail, twisting onto his hip to spray down the back, when walls starts to build around Dean’s mind. He nearly drops the bottle in surprise and is reaching through the kin-connection to seize at Dean thoughts before he can completely block him out. A worried panic digs itself into his chest and Castiel almost wants to push-pull himself to the door and make sure that Dean is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: self-inflicted-feels, knightjeran, superwholock-initiative, secretlysupernatural, kairron, seraphlimonade & pappcave, ohitsdean, thewuzzy, you-had-me-at-fanart
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

The beeping of the alarm clock wakes Castiel. He’s lying on his stomach, one arm over Dean’s chest and his tail tangled with his legs. Dean’s arm is acting as a pillow beneath Castiel’s cheek and Dean is still snoring softly. Castiel grumbles and touches along the heavy sleep fog laying over Dean’s mind. It starts lifting the longer the beeping sound continues, but the noise is annoying and Castiel can’t stand listening to it for any longer.

Castiel grumbles quietly and pulls at Dean’s mind while he drags himself away from Dean’s side to reach for the alarm. He slaps at the top of it until the noise finally stops and he sighs in relief. Sleep-warm arms wrap around his waist and drag him back under the covers. Dean’s nose presses into the back of his neck as he tucks himself tightly against Castiel’s back.

“Five more minutes…” Dean mumbles into his skin, wiggling closer.

That is something Castiel is more than willing to give. His webbing doesn’t feel too dry and five more minutes won’t hurt him. He settles back into Dean, twisting his tail around his legs and covering his arms with his hands. Dean hums contentedly as the sleep fog settles around his mind again and it takes Castiel a few moments to recognize the hardness pressing against the swell of his tail.

His breathing stops but his heart starts pounding, beating so hard it hurts. He knows what he could do, what he once would have done. But right now it just scares him. It’s not because he’s worried he’ll have forgotten what to do to make Dean feel good. He’s just not ready for that yet. Castiel _wants_ to be ready as an answering heat already starts to flow under his skin and curl in shivering coils in his belly, but he’s just – he’s not ready, not sure. Not _right now_.

“Dean.” Castiel whispers, turning his head.

“Just five more minutes.” Dean mumbles as he rolls in closer.

Castiel doesn’t even know the sound that squeaks its way out of his throat. He grips the kin-connection and _pulls_ , trying to wake him completely. _(Dean – Wake. Up.)_

He groans and rubs his cheek against the back of Castiel’s neck. _(What? Are you too dry?)_

 _(No, not yet.)_ Castiel wants to shift and move away, but if he moves Dean might notice or he might start moving against him and Castiel isn’t sure if he’ll be able to stop himself from being influenced by the heat in his veins or the arousal lazily licking through the kin-connection from Dean’s sleep fogged mind.

 _(Dean. You’re – you have an – and you’re –)_ He can’t even put it into words and picturing it wouldn’t help their situation right now. Instead, he pushes the sensation into the kin-connection, hoping that it will be enough to answer Dean’s confusion.

Whatever is left of the sleep fog evaporates immediately and Dean pulls away sharply with a quiet curse. Castiel scrabbles at the edge of the bed to stay in place as Dean attempts to get across the bed while his legs are still tangled with his tail. There’s a louder curse, a thump, and Castiel ends ups stretched across the bed from one side to the other.

Slowly, Castiel unwraps his tail from around and in between Dean’s legs. He sits up, curling his tail under him as he turns around to lean across Dean’s side of the bed and over the edge. Dean still has one leg on the bed and both his arms are folded over his face as embarrassment flares in waves back and forth through the kin-connection.

_(Are you okay?)_

_(No, I feel like an idiot.)_

_(I meant, did you hurt yourself when you fell off the bed?)_ Castiel touches his leg gently, ghosting his fingers over the markings on his calves that are nothing more than dark marks on Dean’s skin in the light of his natural glow. _(And you don’t need to be embarrassed just because you were having good dreams. I know better than most about them and their effects on the body. It’s understandable.)_

Dean jerks his leg out from under Castiel’s hand and turns over to kneel at the edge of the bed. “Yeah, well, rubbing up against you isn’t exactly the best way to get your trust back.” Dark feelings flood through the kin-connection as Dean presses his hands to his thighs and his forehead to the bed. “Just gimme a minute. Don’t –” He takes a deep breath. “Don’t touch me.”

Castiel lowers his hand from reaching out to push his fingers through Dean’s hair. He draws his tail closer, folding it under him. _(I can take care of my scales and the rest. You should take care of that first.)_

He snorts and turns his head to look up at Castiel with one eye. _(Are you actually giving me permission to go jerk off?)_

 _(It’s uncomfortable to wait it out when you’re already erect.)_ Castiel gestures vaguely with one hand while he pulls a pillow into his lap and starts running his fingers along the seams. It’s hard to hold still and not fidget when the subtle scent of Dean’s arousal is in the air. _(You don’t need my permission to take care of yourself and I’m not going to be upset with you for seeking relief when you need it just because I’m not ready to help you yet. I_ want _to help, I’m just not – I’m not ready. I’m sorry.)_

Dean sits back on his heels and there’s understanding in the kin-connection and his smile. He reaches out to cover Castiel’s hands on the pillow with his own, squeezing his fingers. _(I already told you, I get it. And I’m going to wait as long as you need.)_

Castiel’s fans flex at the touch and he can feel a smile force its way to his lips. He pulses gratitude into the connection and amusement when Dean takes the pillow from him to cover his own lap as he stands. _(I’ll be – uh – I guess I’ll be back. I’ll refill the bottle for you.)_

He shuffles around the bed, grabbing the spray-bottle from the side table on his way to the bathroom.  Castiel slides to the floor from his side of the bed, laying on his stomach and curling his tail to the floor first. When he nearly fell from the bed yesterday, it had been embarrassing and unpleasant. He doesn’t want to do that again.

 _(Cas, catch.)_ Dean tosses the full bottle from the door and Castiel fumbles to not drop it. _(I’ll just – um, be a few minutes, then. Are you sure you’re okay with this? I could just take a cold shower or something.)_

 _(Yes, Dean. It’s okay.)_ Castiel waves him away with another smile, filling the kin-connection with acceptance before Dean shuts the door.

He leans his back against the bed and stretches his tail out in front of him. Keeping his hands busy will be the best way to distract himself from thinking about what Dean is going to be doing on the other side of that door. The kin-connection can’t settle while Dean’s thoughts keep flipping back and forth between feeling awkward and being aroused.

Castiel is halfway done with his tail and twisting onto his hip to spray down the back side when walls start to build around Dean’s mind. He nearly drops the bottle in surprise and is reaching through the kin-connection to seize at Dean thoughts before Dean can completely block him out again. A worried panic digs itself into his chest and Castiel is about to push-pull himself to the door and make sure that Dean is okay when confusion rolls around the edges of Dean’s thoughts.

_(I’m gonna be imagining things, Cas, and I can’t really enjoy them knowing you’re going to be seeing it all when you’re not ready for it.)_

_(I don’t care about that. Fantasies aren’t the same as – It’s just not the same. I’ll be fine.)_ Castiel assures him as he pulls at the walls that are barely built, trying to make them go away. _(I don’t want any part of the kin-connection closed with you again. You’ve been so_ open _and I can’t – I don’t want to lose that. Not when we’re going to be apart in the morning and when I’m going to have to go back to the colony in a few days. I just – Please, don’t.)_

Dean is quiet for a few moments and then the walls fall completely. _(I’m not going to hide anything from you. And believe me, I hate giving this up just as much as you do. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.)_

 _(If it’s too much for me, I can filter the kin-connection myself.)_ Castiel breathes a sigh of relief and returns to dampening his tail, turning the black scales glossy. He makes sure that his adipose fins are pliable before he moves on to his side-fans.

It might not be entirely fair to Dean that he has to have everything open to their link while Castiel continues to hide the warmth and place barriers between them whenever he sees the need too, but Castiel isn’t the one trying to win back Dean’s trust. Surprisingly, that’s something he had to start with.

Castiel leaves his back-fans for when Dean is done dealing with himself. The bed is rather low to the floor and it’s not too hard for Castiel to get back up onto it. The whole time he’s flexing his tail and grabbing handfuls of the sheets, Dean is filling the kin-connection with hesitation and reluctance, mixed with a constant pulse of frustrated arousal. Castiel settles under the blanket again, putting his back to the door while he hugs another pillow to his chest and presses his chin to it, waiting for Dean to start with the fantasies.

When he does, it begins with a slow burn of heat that tells him Dean has started touching himself. Castiel tries not to think about it. He tries not to picture Dean leaning against the counter, or sitting on the pillow on the floor, or sitting on the edge of the bathtub or even sitting on the seat of the toilet. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to know. If he knows exactly how Dean is pleasuring himself, it will be easier for him to picture it and he shouldn’t even be thinking about it in the first place. He should be trying to distract himself so Dean’s fantasies don’t affect him too.

Castiel is both surprised and not surprised when Dean’s fantasies start with him. They flicker through every moment that they had together six season ago. It’s everything that Castiel tried so hard not to remember himself since then. They long Dean thinks, the more detailed they get, the more heat fills his thoughts as he gets more pleasure from stroking himself.

The words they said to each back then twist through each memory and die out slowly when Dean starts imagining _new_ scenarios. New things like him stretched out on the same bed where Castiel is currently chewing on the pillow and digging his claws into it. Dean fills his mind with images of kisses and touches, of him working his mouth and tongue and hands over Castiel’s penis, or of Castiel curled between Dean’s legs and pressing kisses to his thighs.

There is heat burning through Castiel’s bones. His tail is twisting under the blanket, curling back and forth as his adipose fins try to ripple at the storm pressing against every nerve. His back-fans keep flexing and there’s so much warmth filling the kin-connection with every thought Dean has of Castiel’s mouth on his erection and his fingers pressing into him. Castiel thinks he can even hear Dean’s heavy breathing – his soft moans and quiet gasps – from where he is. His name fills the kin-connection. A constant litany circling every fantasy that grows louder when Dean’s imagined-Castiel kisses him as he pushes into him properly.

A strangled groan gets muffled against the pillow as Castiel vividly recalls every sensation those touches would bring. The muscles of his sheath are twitching violently and he’s hard within it, his willpower the only thing holding him back from unsheathing. Castiel should have blocked Dean’s fantasies from the start. This was a poor decision on his part. A very poor decision. He shouldn’t be fixed in Dean’s mind and knowing exactly what moment Dean’s pleasure builds and breaks. He shouldn’t be flaring his side-fans to listen to the quiet moan that through the bathroom door.

He hides his face in the pillow and tries to keep as much of his own arousal from the kin-connection as he can, hiding it behind the same wall that keeps his own warmth hidden. It takes a few minutes before Dean’s concern brushes cautiously along the edges of his mind, but Castiel doesn’t respond to it. It’s taking too much of his focus to calm the storm seething in his gut. In hindsight, hiding his face in a pillow that smells like Dean while trying not to think about how Dean’s scent gets darker, headier, when he’s aroused is not the best of ideas.

When the bed dips, Castiel is nearly startled enough to raise his face from the pillow. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open or Dean’s footsteps on the hard floor. Castiel tries not to react to the movement on the bed or the hand on his shoulder.

“Cas?” Dean murmurs quietly, his concern growing. _(Are you okay? Was that too much?)_

He shakes his head. It wasn’t too much. This is something that he can handle. Castiel’s will is stronger than this. It’s not the first time he’s had to suppress the wants of his body. He not ready to deal with it, he’s _not_ , no matter how much he wants to.

 _(Do you want me to step out and give you some time to take care of it?)_ Dean’s hand stays on his shoulder, thumb stroking at the base of the top spine of his back-fan. _(Or do you want to go swim? Will that help? C’mon Cas, you’ve gotta talk to me here.)_

The gentle touch is too much and something inside of him snaps. It unleashing more heat than Castiel has dealt with in seasons – even more than the few times he touched himself. Castiel abandons the pillow, throwing it aside as he drags Dean down. Surprise echoes sharply through the kin-connection and Dean’s fingers dig into his shoulders when Castiel kisses him. He kisses him hard and desperate, not knowing what he’s looking for but knowing that he _wants_ and he wants _Dean_.

He pins Dean to the bed, dragging himself up to lay over him. Castiel sinks his fingers into Dean’s hair to keep him from moving or pulling away, trying to be careful and not hurt him with his claws. The lingering scent of Dean’s arousal still clings to his skin and Castiel wants to smell it and taste it and he _wants_ so badly it hurts. If he just lets go of that last little bit, he could be doing so much more than just rubbing his sheath against Dean’s hip.

 _(Cas – Cas! You need to – Cas,_ stop _. You’re –)_

Dean’s protests are nothing but background noise. There’s too much of it– in his head and in the kin-connection. He just _wants_. He wants Dean, wants this, wants _everything_ and he can’t stop kissing, can’t stop from licking into Dean’s mouth when he tries to speak with his throat voice and dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. It feels good, feels so good, to taste and touch, pushing Dean’s hands away when he tries to stop him from getting a hand under his shorts and feeling _all_ of him.

It’s wrong – it’s all wrong. He needs to stop. He’s stronger than this and he’s not ready, he knows he’s not – but he wants so badly it hurts. He can’t stop. _Why can’t he stop?_ There’s too much noise in the kin-connection – Dean’s concern and his fear, his regret, his everything. But there’s more and Castiel realizes, belatedly, that it’s him. It’s _his_ voice.

_(I can’t – I can’t – I can’t –)_

Over and over and over again. He can’t stop. He can’t do this, not to himself and not to Dean. There are so many reasons but his hands won’t stop trying to touch and even though Dean’s thoughts are insistent that he stop too, that he doesn’t do anything he’s going to regret, he still kissing back. His hands aren’t pushing as hard as they could be and Castiel _knows_ Dean wants this as much as he does, that he wants everything that Castiel is trying to take right now.

It takes a painful tug to his back-fans to make him stop and Castiel draws away with a hiss. Dean rolls them, forcing Castiel onto his back and pushing himself up until he’s out of reach. Castiel doesn’t know how Dean got his hands around his wrists, or how he pinned them to the bed, but he doesn’t fight them. He closes his eyes to the worry lining Dean’s face and tries his hardest to just _breathe_.

There’s so much heat crawling through his veins and it’s hard to ignore, hard to forget that it’s there. He can’t forget it when it’s making it hard to even _think_. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have let Dean put the walls up and keep his fantasies private, or he should have filtered the kin-connection properly and waiting patiently until Dean was done. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t just _wanted_ when it’s not what he _needed_.

Castiel needs this. He has Dean’s mind, but he needs his body. He needs to have all of him, to consume him and keep him and bind Dean to him somehow. Because Dean could leave again. Dean did it before, what would stop him from doing it again? Castiel wants to believe that Dean is here to stay. He wants to believe that this house and everything that Dean has done to find him means he’s not going to leave. Logic says that he’s staying, that _this_ is permanent for Dean. But there’s no way for Castiel to know for certain right now – not without more time.

 _(Deep breaths, Cas. In through the nose, out through the mouth. C’mon, just calm down.)_ Dean’s breathing is heavier than before and he’s carefully sitting over Castiel’s stomach instead of his hips as he feeds as much calm into the kin-connection as possible. _(I’m going to get you a glass of water. You’re gonna drink it, calm down, and then you can either tell me what the hell all that was about or we can go back to sleep. Okay?)_

 _(No, not okay.)_ The words come out on their own, independent of Castiel’s will. _(Don’t leave.)_ It sounds too much like begging but he doesn’t care. Castiel swallows on air, opening his eyes to find the world blurry. _(Don’t leave me behind again. Please – don’t leave –)_

Dean goes still, a devastating surprise flaring through the kin-connection so suddenly it’s enough to interrupt even the cacophony of Castiel’s thoughts. The bed squeaks as Dean shuffles them until he’s laying on his side, pulling Castiel tightly against his chest. He folds him in his arms and presses his face into his hair. It’s not helping the magma burning in his belly to have Dean’s warm skin under his cheek, but the sheer _pain_ radiating through Dean’s thoughts is quickly stemming the flow of heat in his veins. There’s so much regret and apologies that Castiel can barely hear his own thoughts anymore.

“I’m not, Cas. I’m not going anywhere.” Dean whispers, carefully arranging them so Castiel’s side-fan isn’t bent uncomfortably against his arm. “I’m staying right here with you.”

Castiel still feels doubt, but he lets Dean’s assurances fill him and calm him. He takes deep breaths, each inhale filled with the scent of Dean’s skin and forces himself to relax as Dean makes promise after promise that he’s not going anywhere, swearing on everyone and everything that he’s not going to leave Castiel like that again. He mentions that there will be times when he has to go on trips, or go to town, or similar, but he will _always_ return and that Castiel will always be able to contact him in some way.

It takes a while, but Castiel does eventually fall asleep again. The last he remembers is wet hands on his back-fans while Dean continues to promise that he’s here to stay. Castiel remembers that at some point Dean says that if he chooses to stay with him, he’ll show him how to use the laptop and the phone and he’ll be able to contact Dean no matter where he goes. Specifically during the times whenever he has to leave here to visit Bobby or if he has to go on a trip because of his work – something that shouldn’t happen often, but might.

Castiel  sleeps until quiet voices wake him, one of them rumbling under his cheek and the other farther away. He keeps his thoughts shielded, faking sleep while he listens to Dean speak with who he thinks is Sam. Dean still thinks he’s sleeping and the kin-connection is mostly slack between them. There’s no translation of the words, but Dean’s emotions – irritation and concern – flicker along the channels.

“If you don’t get up now, you’re not going to get a shower in before we go.”

“I’ll shower later. Just come get me when you’re ready to leave.”

“Dean, you haven’t showered in days.”

“I went swimming the other night. It’s fine.” Dean shifts slightly under Castiel, his fingers moving gently through his hair.

“Dean –” Sam sounds frustrated.

“Leave it, Sam. I’m not gonna wake Cas yet. He had a shit night and he needs his rest. I’ll get up when you’re ready to go and throw on some clothes and brush up while you’re loading your shit on the boat. Then we can leave, okay?”

There’s a moment of silence before Sam speaks again, his voice softer and Castiel can hear worry in it – even if he doesn’t understand the words. “Did something happen last night?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Dean’s whisper gets even quieter and Castiel forces himself not to react when Dean turns his face into his hair, squeezing his shoulders slightly. “I fucked up big time, Sam.”

Castiel barely hears the quiet ‘okay’ that nearly gets lost in the click of the door as Sam leaves. Dean’s fingers continue moving in Castiel’s hair. They don’t stop for several minutes until amusement tickles the edges of Castiel’s mind, the kin-connection growing strong again.

_(How long have you been awake?)_

He sighs against Dean’s clavicle and unhooks his tail from over his thigh while as he stretches, leaning away to give his arms room. Castiel wraps his tail back around Dean’s leg afterward and leans into him again, tucking his nose into the curve of his throat.

_(Not long. What were you talking about?)_

Dean holds him tightly again, fingers returning to work to rub behind Castiel’s side fans. _(He wanted me to shower before we left – which is soon, by the way. I just didn’t want to wake you up yet. Though that seems kind of pointless now, I guess.)_ He huffs a quiet laugh before the concern flows back into the kin-connection. _(How are you feeling?)_

 _(Better.)_ Castiel drops all his walls except for the one hiding the only thing he’s not ready to share fully yet. He doesn’t bother to hide how ashamed he feels for losing control of himself earlier, but any apology he tries to give gets brushed aside and Dean hugs him tighter.

_(I know my promises have never meant much before, but I’ll swear on anything you want that I’m here to stay. I’m not going to leave you like that again, Cas.)_

The wall guarding the warmth stays in place, but Castiel does let it fall slightly. He lets it fall just enough to let through a strained flow warmth. Dean’s smile can actually be felt against the top of his head and he answers with a tidal wave of his own burning warmth, strung through with so much joy that it forces a smile to Castiel’s lips whether he wants it to or not.

They stay like that on the bed until Jess opens the door to let Dean know he has five minute before they start loading their bags onto the boat. Dean grumbles and stretches within Castiel’s tight hold that he refuses to let go of until absolutely necessary, even going so far as to twist his tail around Dean’s legs more. He doesn’t want them to get up yet. It means that Dean is going to have to leave and they’re going to have to cut the kin-connection. That’s the last thing that Castiel wants right now, especially after the scene he made hours ago.

That’s when something new occurs to him and Castiel frowns against Dean’s shoulder. _(When you’re in town, are a lot of people going to see you?)_

 _(Yeah, of course. The market is going to be crowded by the time I see Sam and Jess off at the dock.)_ Dean tilts his head away slightly to look at him. _(Why?)_

Castiel’s frown deepens. The humans don’t know the meaning of the tattoos on Dean’s legs and his shirt will be hiding the white scars on his shoulder. No one will know or see any signs of Castiel’s claim on Dean and that doesn’t sit well with him. Dean says that he needs Castiel, and Castiel knows that he needs Dean. He knows that he still loves him and just because he’s struggling with a few things right now doesn’t change that Dean is _his_. Now Castiel just needs a way to make sure everyone else knows that too.

And there’s only one way he can think of for that.

Dean’s surprise jolts through the kin-connection in a sharp burst when Castiel squirms closer and presses kisses along his collarbone. He places gentle kisses over his pulse and across his throat until he finds the hard center of his throat. A startled noise vibrates under his lips and Dean’s whole body twitches when Castiel seals his mouth to Dean’s skin and _sucks_.

_(Cas –?)_

There’s curiosity to his name, but it’s washed away with the pleased groan Dean gives. Castiel doesn’t give an answer until he’s finished sucking a dark mark in the center of Dean’s throat, and even then it’s not with words.

He pulls away, examining the mark critically to make sure that it’s perfect. People who see the mark won’t know that it was made by _him_ , but they will know that it was made by _somebody_ and that it means Dean isn’t available to anyone. It makes a possessive and smug kind of pride curl deep in his chest. And as long as Castiel knows that he’s the one who put the mark there, than he’s happy.

One of Dean’s arms unwraps from around his shoulders so he can gently touch at the mark on his throat. Castiel hums happily, content to let that smug pride and his feelings of possession slide into the kin-connection, twisting around the strained warmth like how his tail is twisted around his legs. Dean’s surprise is still like a thick blanket over his thoughts, but that is quickly giving way to a bright joy that Castiel is quickly getting used to feeling from him.

Dean sits up slowly, grinning down at Castiel as he continues to touch over the mark on his throat. _(If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just marked your territory.)_

Castiel pushes up too, pressing his hips down and curving his shoulders back while he flares his back-fans in another stretch. _(An astute observation.)_

_(Gotta say, I prefer hickies to being pissed on.)_

He glances at Dean, confusion filling the kin-connection. _(I don’t understand what you’re referring to.)_

 _(Don’t worry about it. Feel free to leave more if –)_ Dean stops, his hand frozen in a gesture toward his throat when Jess opens the door without preamble and they both turn to look at her.

“We’re leaving in five minutes with or without you.” She says flatly, barely even blinking at Dean’s state of undress or how Castiel is still curled around his bare legs. “Get dressed and brush your teeth. We do want _some_ time to say goodbye to Cas.”

Dean opens his mouth to answer, but Jess has already shut the door. Castiel sighs and untangles his tail from his legs when Dean pats his scales. He waits on the bed, watching while Dean pulls on a short sleeved shirt and one of the crisscross patterned, longer sleeved shirts that hangs open in the front. The stiff blue pants that Dean used to wear – jeans, Castiel remembers they were called jeans – are pulled on last while he’s hopping towards the bathroom.

As he’s brushing his teeth, Dean walks back into the bedroom again. He gets a few items from the desk and tosses them onto the bed. Before going back to the bathroom, Dean rips out the page with his shopping list on it from the notebook and shoves it in his pocket. Castiel can hear the water running, but he is more interested in the things on the bed. He recognizes one as the folded shell of a phone, and the other is a brown shell that Castiel has seen before, but he doesn’t remember the name for it.

 _(It’s a wallet, Cas. You can open it if you want.)_ Something like anticipation curls through Dean’s words.

Castiel folds it open. The only interesting things to look at are the ones in the large pocket that runs along the back of the whole shell. He recognizes the picture that Dean carried on him of his mother and him. But that’s not the only picture in there now. That picture is kept in a clear little-book made up of little pockets. The first picture is the one of Dean and Mary. The next picture, directly behind that one, is of Sam, Dean, Jess, Bobby, Ellen and Jo.

There are eight more pictures in the book and they are all of Dean and Castiel – or just him. He sucks in a sharp breath and carefully flips through the little-book. Castiel had been trying not to think about how he hasn’t seen any pictures of him on the walls of Dean’s home yet and now he knows why. Dean carries them with him, just like he carries the picture of his mother.

“We’re also the background image on my phone, if you want to see that too.” Dean speaks from his shoulder and Castiel doesn’t start in surprise or even turn around.

 _(Come on, we can’t let them miss the ferry. They have work tomorrow.)_ Dean presses a kiss to his side-fan. _(Do you want to come with us part of the way on the boat and then you could swim back here?)_

He shakes his head slowly, still flipping through the pictures. _(How long have you had this?)_

 _(About two and a half years, give or take. Jess had it made up for me for my birthday.)_ Dean’s hand covers his, taking back the little-book and the wallet.

He puts them all in his pockets and reaches to lift Castiel from the bed. Castiel leans into him, curling his arms around Dean’s shoulder as his tail folds around his waist. The wheelchair isn’t necessary when they’re going to be going down stairs. Castiel presses little kisses all along Dean’s jaw and under his ear, a purr rumbling deep in his chest. He fills the kin-connection with just how _happy_ it makes him to know that Dean carries him in more ways than just the tattoos on his body.

Jess and Sam are already waiting on the boat by the time Dean gets them down the stairs. Castiel barely notes that the wheelchair is sitting at the top of the steps when they pass it. Sam helps Dean onto the swim-deck at the back of the boat and Dean carefully lowers Castiel until he’s sitting on the short wall that separates the swim-deck and the rest of the boat. It still takes a large amount of will power to force himself to let go of Dean so he can step over the wall.

Castiel turns around carefully to face everyone, forming the kin-connection with Sam and Jess as he does so and greeting them. Part of the sky is still dark, but the light is growing over the wall of the cove and chasing away the shadows. It’s very early and both Jess and Sam look tired.

“It was great seeing you again.” Sam smiles, sitting next to him. “We’re going to be back in a month. Do you think you’ll still be here then?”

Dean’s shoulders tense and Castiel can feel his anxiety swarm through the kin-connection before he gives his answer. He rubs a hand over his scales and watches for Dean’s reaction. _(I would like to be.)_

He shows no signs physically, but the kin-connection lights up with so much hope that it drowns out the links with Jess and Sam. Castiel has to filter what he feels from Dean’s link to be able to understand Jess’s goodbye. She speaks entirely in the kin-connection while holding Castiel’s hands tightly between her own and making sure that he’s looking at her the entire time she speaks. He doesn’t share her message with Sam or Dean, keeping her hopeful advice a secret.

 _(I know your colony is important to you. Family is family, no matter what, and they’ll always matter the most. But do what makes_ you _happy. I’m biased here because I love Dean like a brother, but he really is trying his hardest to make up for the mistakes he made. I know you’re both trying your best to work through everything that happened between you, and I think you should really give this a chance. A week is probably not going to be enough time for that, so don’t let the council push you around and make your decisions for you.)_

Jess squeezes his hands tight and leans in to kiss him on the cheek. _(That being said, I want my babies to have the coolest uncles in the world. So you better still be around when they get here.)_

Castiel can’t help but smile and he dips his head, sending understanding into the kin-connection in place of actual words. Jess as good as said that he’s a part of her family and even though his own is a day’s swim away, a light and floating feeling fills his chest to be thought of as part of this one too.

Sam’s goodbye is almost the same as he nearly begs for Castiel to give Dean a second chance because of how hard he’s worked and that Dean means it. _(He loved Cassie enough that he was going to marry her, but after the breakup he never tried calling her or making up with her. He didn’t even look for her after he got out of jail. I don’t think he’s spoken to her since that day. But you – he’s spend more than a year chasing after you. You’re the first person he’s been actually_ serious _about and after all this, I really think he deserves a second chance. Please, Cas – give him that at least. Let him try.)_

He refrains from telling Sam that Dean’s second chance is already underway and that no matter what the colony or the council says, Castiel is already planning on returning here. Dean is so close to the colony and being with him is what Castiel wants. He’ll find a way to make things with the colony work – and if they don’t… he’ll figure out what to do then. All he knows right now is that he’s not willing to give Dean up again – not after everything Dean’s done to get him back.

There are seats lining the sides of the boat and Jess sits in one of them while Sam and Dean get long sticks with one flattened end out from under the seats. After untying ropes that keep the boat tied to the floating path, they use the sticks – paddles, Dean explains – to move the boat out into the cove and toward the large crack in the wall.

When they near the exit out to the sea, Jess stands to give Castiel a hug and another kiss on the cheek. _(You better be here where we visit next month.)_

 _(I’ll try to be.)_ He forces a small smile. If he has his way, hopefully their visit won’t be during when he’s supposed to be on sentry duty. _(Have a safe trip.)_

His goodbye with Sam is the same again. Dean gives Sam his paddle to hold while he steps over to stand in front of him. _(I’ll be back in a few hours. If you’re going to go back inside, help yourself to anything. It’s supposed to be your home too. There are towels in the baskets next to the door and Sam left your chair at the top of the stairs. Be careful going up the stairs and don’t try getting into the chair near it – I don’t want you accidentally rolling down them.)_

Castiel nods, but apprehension is already making his throat feel tight. He reaches for Dean and presses his face to his neck the moment Dean gets close enough. They’re going to have to let go of the kin-connection now and Castiel doesn’t want to. After not having Dean’s mind for six seasons it hurts to think of losing it, even if it’s only going to be for a few hours.

 _(I don’t have to go shopping today if you want me back sooner. It’ll be barely more than an hour if you want that.)_ Dean rubs his hands over Castiel’s back before he hugs him tightly. _(Shopping can wait until you go back to the colony.)_

That would be nice and it’s would Castiel would prefer, but he knows that Dean needs things from town and it makes more sense that he get what he needs now instead of having to go back again in a few days. Castiel shakes his head and presses a kiss to the mark he left over the center of Dean’s throat. _(Do your shopping. I’ll be fine.)_

Dean smiles and kisses him once – quick, sweet, and not at all how Castiel wants to be kissed – before he helps to lower him down onto the swim-deck. _(You can go back to sleep if you’re still tired and I’ll wake you when I get back?)_

 _(I’ll find something to do.)_ Castiel pulls himself to the edge and looks back at Sam and Jess, tugging at their links to get their attention. _(Travel safely. I hope I’ll see you again soon.)_

He dives over the edge of the swim-deck while they wave. Castiel holds his breath, rolling forward and twisting around to the surface again. The waves lick at his chin while his adipose fins ripple to keep him floating as he lifts a hand from the water and waves goodbye. He keeps the kin-connection with all of them until they turn around the bend in the opening. He doesn’t want to let the kin-connection break from distance again. It’s not exactly painful in a physical sense, but it makes his chest ache to feel it snap like that. Dean’s link is severed last and Castiel sends a large wave of warmth into it before he cuts it off.

The sound of the engine roars to life a few minutes later and Castiel waits where he is until even that fades away into the distance. Castiel slowly sinks and his first breath of water chokes him before it flows properly through his gills. He doesn’t know what to do with himself now beyond hunting for his breakfast. And he wouldn’t even call it that. The fish in the cove are slow and easy to catch.

He swims in leisurely laps around the cove while he eats, exploring the sandy bottom and the rocky piles closer to its edges. There are bunches of kelp growing in places, and if Castiel cultivates it properly he could have his own fresh supply here without having to go to the kelp forest to harvest it. He won’t be able to make anything useful with it, but with all the human things that Dean has, Castiel doubts he’s going to have any need for it beyond a garnish to go with his fish.

It’s thinking about the human things in the house that brings Castiel back to the floating-path. He struggles out of the water and squints up at steady-blue. Bright-pearl is starting to peek over the top of the cove wall and Dean used to be very adamant that he spend as little time in bright-pearl’s light as possible, insisting that it wasn’t good for his skin. Castiel doesn’t exactly understand _why_ , but Dean knows more about the world above the waves than he does. It would be foolish of him to disregard Dean’s warnings just because they don’t make sense to him.

Push-pulling himself up the stairs takes an incredibly long time. He’s exhausted by the time he reaches the top, his arms weak and shaking as he pushes the chair away from the stairs and slides over the deck after it. He has to put the back of the chair to the railing before he can even attempt climbing onto it.

Once his tail is folded in the bucket, he slumps in the chair and breathes deep. Getting from the cove to the house is much too trying and Castiel can’t always rely on Dean to carry him up and down the stairs. If he really will be staying here for longer periods of time than just this one week after he returns to make his report to the colony, maybe he can discuss with Dean alternate methods of getting from the cove to inside the house. Dean is smart and Castiel is sure that he’ll be able to think of something

Now that he’s sitting in the shade of the house, Castiel can take a moment to breathe and get the strength back in his arms before he attempts to roll into the house. The door is closed but it slides open easily when Castiel tugs at the groove of the handle. He’s long since dripped dry and the towels are unnecessary once he’s inside the house.

Castiel still takes the opportunity to check what is in every basket and box and he pulls out every one of the hard books lining the shelves to check them. There are some that have pages, but most of them are thin and hard, covered in few words and large, interesting pictures of people and things Castiel has never seen. These are the books that Dean got the round discs from for the movies they watched last night and that reminds Castiel that Dean had said that there were six movies in total. Yesterday they watched five. Maybe when Dean gets back they’ll be able to watch the sixth. He would like to know how the story ends.

He doesn’t touch any of the items on top of the ledge in front of the windows. In the center there is a  wide, flat box with a flat, black circle in the center and an arm with a pointed bulb hanging from it. There are more pictures of Bobby and Ellen and Jo, Sam and Jess, and Dean and Benny. Nearly hidden behind a group of the pictures is one of a younger Dean and Sam standing with a man that Castiel recognizes as their father from Dean’s memories.

Castiel’s container of treasures is sitting next to the flat-box and he absently touches at the pendant still hanging around his neck. Sam never said anything about it, but Castiel did notice that both he and Jess had frequently looked at the necklace when they first saw him wearing it. He doesn’t know if Dean ever explained to them why he had it.

There isn’t much else for him to explore in the couch-room and Castiel plans to have Dean teach him everything in the kitchen tonight when they make pie. For right now, while his arms still feel weak from the climb up the stairs and rolling around is an annoyance, he can check out the bedroom. Specifically, he can snoop through all the drawers just inside the door under what he has determined is the stairs that lead to the second floor.

These drawers are all filled with towels. Some of them are empty and one of them has a few extra spray bottles lining one side of it, tucked in beside the towels and cloths. When Castiel opens the door just before the wall ends, he finds half the closet stacked with boxes and there are a few items of clothing – very thick shirts made of cloth that Castiel has never seen before – hanging above the boxes. After opening all the boxes on the top, Castiel concludes that they are all full of paper and therefore absolutely useless to him. He can’t read them, so it’s pointless to investigate further.

Instead, Castiel rolls across the room to the desk recessed into the wall next to the doors that hide all of Dean’s clothes. Dean’s laptop sits closed in the middle of the desk. There is a little oval thing connected to it by a thin tube and Castiel ignores that. There are no drawers and only one cup sitting in a corner with a few pens sticking out of it. There are a couple books lined up on the other side of the desk opposite the pen-cup and then there is a shelf well above the desk – out of Castiel’s reach – that has several books standing in a row. Most of them look like the notebook Dean left laying out on the desk.

Castiel spends a few minutes just looking at all the clothes that Dean has. There are more drawers hidden behind the doors, but those are just filled with more clothes – socks and undershorts. The drawers closer to the floor, the ones that Castiel nearly falls off the chair to reach, have more notebooks and boxes of pens.

On Dean’s side of the bed there is another table with a thin, bent rod supported on a flat base and ending with a cone around what looks like one of the fake bright-pearls that give light. There are six more pictures on the wall next to the window on this side of the bed too. In three of them, the people in the picture are standing in front of something that Castiel can only name from Dean’s memories – his ‘baby’. The other three pictures are Dean standing with people that Castiel doesn’t recognize but they’re all smiling and Dean looks happy and that’s all that matters.

The next room to fall to Castiel’s investigation is the bathroom. Next to the washing machine is a ledge of the same height and underneath is cubbies with baskets in them. The baskets have little boxes or bottles in them, or there are folded cloths. Even the cupboards under the sink-ledge just has more of the same and Castiel quickly loses interest.

He checks the door at the end of the hall next. The room is full of machines and things Castiel doesn’t even know how to describe, let alone name. It’s the same size of the bathroom, but he doesn’t bother rolling in to get a closer look at anything. Castiel knows he won’t understand on his own and he might as well wait for Dean to come back and explain it to him. Even then he might not understand what they do, but at least he’ll know what they are.

And aside from the kitchen, that is the entirety of the first floor from him to explore. Castiel stops his wheelchair at the base of the stairs and he considers making the climb. It’ll be quite the effort and his arms are still feeling weak from before. He estimates that he has another hour and a bit until Dean said he would come back. Most of his time was wasted in the cove, getting back up to the house and rolling around in the wheelchair. He’s still not very fast at it, and he probably won’t be for a very long while. Practice makes perfect and Castiel wants that – he wants to have the time to learn how to wheel around faster, he wants to learn how to maneuver properly and all the little tricks that Dean probably knows and could teach him.

For right now, he’s tired. Pushing at the wheels and moving both his and the chair’s weight is exhausting and Castiel really doesn’t think he’ll be able to get up the stairs and then have to push-pull himself around all the rooms up there. That’s not even taking into account getting back down the stairs without falling or ripping any of his adipose fins. He’s never had to go _down_ stairs on his own before, but getting up them is a trail all its own.

Castiel barely even needs to think on his choice. He rolls back into the bedroom and gracelessly flops from the chair to the bed. The bedding is warmed by bright-pearl’s light coming in through the window and Castiel burrows under the blanket. He arranges the pillows in a semi-circle at the head of the bed and curves his back into them, bunching the blanket up and around him and pulling it in tightly as he completes the circle with his tail, the end tucking under the pillow under his head.

Everything still smells of Dean and that lulls Castiel to sleep faster than the warmth of the bed and the sleepiness in his bones. When he wakes up again, there is thumping and grunting coming from the couch-room. Castiel lifts his head from the pillows long enough to twitch his side-fans out to catch the sounds and confirm that it’s Dean before he tucks his nose back under the blanket.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice echoes through the house, sounding cautious and worried.

“Dean.”  Castiel answers, muffling a yawn into the pillow and lifts his head again. He bunches more of the blanket under his cheek, enough to keep his head elevated to see the door. The moment Dean steps into view, Castiel reaches out and forms the kin-connection. As soon as it slides into place, the first emotions that swamp it are an overpowering sense of relief followed quickly with a surge of warmth and a pleased kind of joy.

_(Did you nap all morning?)_

_(I explored for a bit. Are you aware that you own enough towels to supply the colony?)_ Another yawn escapes and Castiel takes the moment to stretch, uncurling until he’s spread across the whole bed, arms above his head and the end of his tail hanging over the edge. The blanket only covers part of him now and his scales feel cool where they are no longer covered. He pulls his tail back under the blanket and curls on his side. _(Stairs are hard and I’m not used to pushing the wheels. I decided to nap.)_

 _(Good, I was worried you were going to be bored.)_ Dean smiles and tilts his head toward the couch-room. _(I’m just going to put the groceries away and then we can do whatever you want. Movies, pie, talking, kissing, whatever.)_

Castiel  hums and drags a thick touch of warmth along the edges of Dean’s mind before he puts the filter back into place. _(First kisses. Then I would like to watch the last movie from last night. You should hurry or I might fall asleep again.)_

Dean is gone from the doorway before Castiel is finished. He smiles into the pillow and listens to the slamming of cupboards, drawers and the bang of the fridge door. Castiel doesn’t have to wait long. Dean takes a moment to kick off his shoes and socks, and empty his pockets on the desk. When he starts removing his jeans, Castiel let’s a tendril of trepidation flick out into the kin-connection, but it fades when all Dean does is fold the jeans over the back of his chair and lay his top shirt over that.

He climbs onto the bed slowly and Castiel lifts the blanket to let him slide into place next to him. Dean smells like the sea spray, the light of bright-pearl, and that deep scent that belong solely to him. Castiel turns over to face him, pulling Dean closer before he’s even properly laying down. It ends with Dean half on top of him, one leg thrown over Castiel’s tail and his weight held up on one elbow. His other hand is cupping the side of Castiel’s neck, thumb brushing over the scales that line his gills as he rests their foreheads together.

Castiel smiles and carefully lets out another curl of warmth. _(I missed you too, Dean.)_

A small laugh puffs against his lips and Castiel tilts his head back to block the next one with a kiss. These kisses, compared to the ones during the night and yesterday, are slow and sweet. Castiel takes his time tasting Dean and remembering all the little things he can do with just his tongue and teeth that make Dean swallow around little sounds.

It takes Dean a while before he pulls back to catch a breath.  When he does, Castiel brings up one hand from Dean’s side to touch the blotchy red-purple mark at the center of his throat. Dean allows the touch for a moment before he catches Castiel’s hand and a nervous _want_ twists into the kin-connection. He licks his lips and lets go of Castiel’s hand to trace his fingertip along his collarbone.

“Can I – can I put one on you too?”


	45. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel can’t help the frown and the twinge of pain in his chest. Dean sits up immediately and pulls him closer, pressing a lingering kiss to the splash of scales on his cheek. “I meant that this week I want to give all my attention to you. We’ve got three years to catch up on, y’know? Writing can wait.”
> 
> _(What if your ‘muse’ leaves you between now and then?)_
> 
> Dean laughs and shrugs, amusement filling the channels between them. “He’s going to have to leave any way, but I’d like to think he’ll come back to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: sadly-i-dont-own-a-67-impala, lokiinthedevilstrap, subdeanie, monsterproblem, rainbowlightsabers, whereareyoucas, samandrien, sharysinshmoonshadow, hydraarill, thelittlearchangelthatcould, dinagastuff, deniigi, and maiddon
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

Castiel’s heart makes a valiant effort to relocate from his chest to this throat at the desperate pleas that fill the kin-connection. He doesn’t even need to ask why Dean wants to do that – not that he was planning on it, as the answer itself is rather obvious. Reason after reason starts pouring into their link, each one lined with a level of possession from Dean that Castiel hasn’t felt since the day Lilith said she was going to give him a new collar.

Dean wants Castiel to return to the colony bearing his marks like he wears Castiel’s. He wants Castiel to have something more than just the necklace – an item that can be taken off. No one can take from him the marks on his skin and Dean wants that claim. He wants everyone to see that Castiel is _his._

The want is crawling through the kin-connection, filling all the corners of Castiel’s mind and he’s not even sure if it belongs to Dean. He was caught off guard, left staring up at Dean with his hand still poised next to his pulse. It’s the same problem as last night. Castiel wants to give Dean everything that he’s asking for. He wants his marks and he wants to be able to proudly display them before his colony. But he’s not sure if he’s ready, especially after what happened last night.

His mind quickly runs through a list of the places on his body that aren’t very sensitive and only one place seems appropriate. Dean’s grin is nearly blinding at just the small nod he gives and the curl of acceptance he washes over Dean’s thoughts. Castiel is answered with delight and Dean leans down to press a kiss bent around a smile to his mouth.

He moves Dean’s hand from his collarbone, guiding it to the back of his neck. It’s one of his most vulnerable of places, harder to defend when he can’t see what’s behind him and his echoes are filled with more movement than he can comprehend. Castiel presses Dean’s fingers against that spot.

 _(If it gets too much for me, you stop.)_ He looks up steadily into the surprise on Dean’s face, swallowing around the tight knot of nervousness in his throat. _(I don’t want a repeat of last night.)_

Dean nods slowly and Castiel can feel him assessing his hesitation. _(If you’re not ready for it, you know you can tell me ‘no’, right?)_

 _(I’m not ready for everything.)_ He looks away, shuffling to turn himself onto his stomach with his arms tucked under his chest to push his shoulders up, giving him the room to tilt his head forward and bare the back of his neck. _(But I think I’m ready for this.)_

Castiel has to force his back-fans to remain folded down when Dean starts by pressing gentle kisses along his shoulder. His adipose fins twitch under the blankets, too weighed down to ripple properly as Dean drags his teeth over his skin, searching for the best place to leave his mark. One of Dean’s hands lays heavy in the middle of his back and he holds Castiel down when the first sharp suck makes his whole body jerk, tail tightening around one of Dean’s legs.

The heat that spreads through his body from where Dean works at nipping and sucking a mark into his skin is nowhere near as powerful as the storm from last night. It’s a pleasant burn that tickles along his limbs and to the tip of his tail, drawing a soft noise from Castiel’s throat. The end of his tail thumps against Dean’s calf as he curls his fingers in the sheet. He has to force himself not to whine when Dean works at that one spot long enough for it to start to tingle, sensitive and on the verge of being painful. Castiel has to reach out and push at Dean’s chest to make him stop, his mind too full of the want for more to actually voice his request.

Dean leans away with a final lick and immediately places his hand over the spot, fingers curling until they’re brushing the edges of his gills in gentle strokes. _(Was that too much?)_

He shakes his head and curls on his side, tugging Dean’s hand from his neck to draw it around his waist. Dean slides into place behind him, wedging his arm under the pillow under Castiel’s head. Neither of them says anything. There is nothing to say. It wasn’t too much for Castiel, but it also almost feels like it was too little. All he can do right now is let the kin-connection fill with the content sitting in his chest and what little warmth he’s allowing out. He can feel Dean’s smile against his shoulder as he answers with his own warmth.

It feels _right_ to have one of Dean’s marks on his skin again. He almost wishes that he had picked a spot that he would be able to see. Maybe, if all goes well today, Castiel will be comfortable enough to let Dean put another one on him. And next time it will be in a place where he will be able to see it without the aid of a mirror. It will be where his colony-kin won’t be able to miss it.

Unsurprisingly, Dean tucks his nose against the back of Castiel’s neck, pressing little kisses to the hickey he left. A purr starts to rumble in Castiel’s throat and he leans back into the heat of Dean’s body. Only once does Dean move away, and that’s only to stand on the bed and pull a screen down over the window to lessen bright-pearl’s light. It makes the room darker, but not dark enough for Castiel’s glow to return. When Dean settles back onto the bed, Castiel rolls over to face him, settling against his chest much like they were laying before the alarm woke them during the night.

They drift in and out of conversation for the next little bit as Dean tells him with words and pictures what the town is like. Castiel closes his eyes and lets the images come and go as Dean provides them, showing him things like the docks – so that’s what the floating-path is called – where Sam and Jess leave the island on a bigger boat that takes them to the mainland, and the market place where he buys some of his food. Dean shows him with his memories the places in town where he takes garbage and what he calls ‘recycling’.

Castiel tells him about the exploring he did, colouring the images of the things he doesn’t know with a lazy curiosity. The low, flat box on the shelves in the couch-room is a record player and Dean promises to play a few records later today for Castiel to listen to. They records are some of the things that were in the boxes under the shelves. The hard thin books are what Dean calls ‘DVD’ cases. The circular discs inside are DVDs and that’s what the movies are kept on.

When he asks about the things in the bathroom, Dean explains those are environmentally friendly cleaning supplies for the house and his clothes, and there are also his soaps and shampoos. He keeps extras just in case he ever runs out between Sam and Jess’s visits, since most of those things can’t be bought at the town Dean goes to.

All the things in the room at the end of the hall are machines that filter the water from the cove to make it drinkable or useable to bathe with. It does the same to clean the water before putting it back into the cove. Some of the other machines are called ‘generators’ and they take power from the sun and one stores it while the other uses it to give power to the house.

Dean explains that most of the things he uses, like the alarm clock, run on little things no bigger than his smallest finger. They’re called ‘batteries’ and they can be recharged to be used over and over again. Everything else only uses power when it is on and he tries not to use very much of it so he can keep use the generators to keep the house cool enough to be comfortable, since it can get rather hot outside.

“Which is why I have so many notebooks.” Dean gestures toward the desk. “I write the first draft by hand and type up the better copy later.”

 _(Have you written more books since your first?)_ Castiel can see Dean’s book from here. It’s one of the ones standing in the corner of the desk.

He hums in thought; a low, rumbling sound under Castiel’s cheek. “Not really. I started writing another, but I got stuck near the middle and couldn’t really give it the attention it needs. I was too focused on trying to find you.” Dean turns his head to press a kiss to his forehead, pulsing warmth into the kin-connection. “But I’m pretty sure my muse is back and I’ll start writing again next week.”

 _(Why next week?)_ He lifts his head to give Dean a proper kiss before rolling away for a decent stretch. It feels like they’ve been lying in the bed for a while now and Castiel is starting to feel hungry and dry.

_(Because I like to give all my attention to what I’m writing and I can’t do that when you’re here.)_

Castiel can’t help the frown and the twinge of pain in his chest. Dean sits up immediately and pulls him closer, pressing a lingering kiss to the splash of scales on his cheek. “I meant that this week I want to give all my attention to you. We’ve got three years to catch up on, y’know? Writing can wait.”

_(What if your ‘muse’ leaves you between now and then?)_

Dean laughs and shrugs, amusement filling the channels between them. “He’s going to have to leave any way, but I’d like to think he’ll come back to me.”

Another frown forces its way onto his lips. In the kin-connection, when he first used the word, Dean defined ‘muse’ as a person who gives inspiration. Now he’s saying that person is male. Castiel doesn’t know who it is and he doesn’t like it. He feels ashamed to be jealous of a fictitious person – or maybe it’s a real person, just someone he hasn’t met – but he can’t help it.

The amusement in the kin-connection only grows and Dean leans in to kiss him again. Castiel nearly turns away from it, stopping only when Dean adds one last thought. _(Kind of like how I came back to him.)_ And then Dean is gone, sliding from the bed before Castiel can really react.

Castiel twists around on the bed to watch Dean go into the bathroom. _(I’m your muse?)_

 _(It’s kind of obvious if you think about it. You were already the inspiration behind one book. Why wouldn’t you be the inspiration behind another?)_ Dean grins over his shoulder before he shuts the door.

That brings up a question Castiel hadn’t quite thought about yet. _(If your book is about me – about us and our story, how did you end it?)_

For a moment Dean doesn’t answer, his emotions flickering back and forth between uncertainty and a lull of sadness. _(I didn’t.)_

He slides to the end of the bed where Dean had pushed the wheelchair during the night. _(That doesn’t make sense. How can you have written a book without finishing it?)_

 _(I didn’t have an ending for it, so I left it open ended for there to be a second book. That’s the one I’ve been working on.)_ Dean keeps talking while Castiel maneuvers from the bed into the chair, curling his tail in the bucket. _(It’s a sequel.)_

 _(Is that one still going to be about us?)_ He rolls the chair toward the bathroom and waits outside the door for Dean to finish.

“Who else would it be about?” He opens the door while wiping one hand on his shirt. “You want to use the tub or the shower?”

 _(Shower, please.)_ Castiel keeps his hands out of the way while Dean pulls the chair into the bathroom and pushes him over to the shower. _(How is the second book going to end?)_

“Don’t know yet.” Dean pulls open the glass door and helps Castiel to the floor. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, or even if it’ll be a happy ending.”

Castiel slides carefully over the raised frame on the floor, curling in the shower alcove with his tail around the wall. Before Dean shuts the door, Castiel reaches out and touches his leg, tracing the circles and lines. _(Didn’t Sam say you needed to shower? If you can swim with shorts on, you can shower with them too, right?)_

Dean crouches so they’re eye to eye. “Are you sure about that?”

_(I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.)_

He tilts his head to the side, eyebrow raised. “You said the same thing about last night.”

 _(Go change into your swim shorts and hurry back.)_ Castiel pushes at his knee and leans back under the shower spray. _(Just don’t expect me to do anything like I’ve done before.)_

 _(As awesome as that would be, I don’t really expect anything from you.)_ Dean shuts the door and Castiel tilts his head back, closing his eyes to enjoy the spray soaking his hair and side-fans. _(How many times do you want me to tell you that I’ll wait until you’re ready?)_

Castiel rubs his hands over his arms. _(As many times as you’ll say it.)_

Dean’s fond amusement tickles through the kin-connection. _(You’re a tease.)_

 _(I just want to be sure.)_ The door opens again, but Castiel doesn’t open his eyes. He notes the slight shift in water temperature as Dean turns it slightly warmer, and then the door shuts again as quite a bit of the spray gets blocked. Castiel looks up and smiles lightly as Dean starts opening the bottles on the shelf hanging from the shower spout. _(The repetition helps.)_

“Good.” Dean works shampoo into his hair. “After this, you want lunch?”

_(Depends, what are we going to make?)_

“I was just going to make something simple, like sandwiches. I don’t know if a ton of bread is good for you, but there’s still some of the fish left that Sam caught.”

_(A fish sandwich?)_

Dean tilts his head under the spray to let the water wash away the shampoo. _(How about a slice of toast with a side of fish?)_

Castiel uses the end of his tail to wipe away the bubbles running down Dean’s legs. _(That’s acceptable. Can we watch the last movie today? And when can we make pie?)_

He has to look away when Dean starts rubbing soap over his arms and chest. “How about we watch the movie while we eat and we’ll make the pie after? By the time we’re done with that – because I bet you’re going to be messy as hell with it and make me take at least twice as long – we can start on making supper.”

 _(What will be for supper?)_ Castiel distracts himself with watching the bubbles swirl around Dean’s feet and into the drain.

“Hamburgers and French fries.”

Castiel doesn’t need to look up to know Dean is grinning. He can hear it in his voice and the smug sensation through the kin-connection. Dean knows that Castiel likes the fries and he liked the buns for the hamburgers – though he never actually got to taste the meat before. It was too hot the first time he tried to pick up the meat. He remembers that day both bitterly and with an odd fondness. It’s the day he drove Dean away to sleeping with Pam and the same night that Castiel had realized what Dean was starting to mean to him. 

“We done in here, Cas?” Dean’s hand pushes into his hair and Castiel tilts his head back, leaning up into the touch.

_(I’m ready to leave if you are.)_

_(Good.)_ Dean turns off the water and pushes open the door. It’s open long enough for Castiel to notice that there are towels laid out on the floor before Dean shuts it again. _(You should probably wait here for a minute first.)_

Castiel pulses confusion into the kin-connection while he watches Dean’s shape move on the other side of the foggy glass. He can tell that Dean wraps a towel around his waist, but it’s the next movement he makes that answers why he left him in the shower. Quickly Castiel looks away as Dean removes his swim shorts. Dean throws them in the tub with a wet thud before he opens the door.

“Okay, it’s safe now.” He leaves the door open as he uses a second towel to dry his hair and shoulders. “I’m going to go get dressed and I’ll be back to help you into the chair if you need it.”

 _(You only need to put on your undershorts.)_ Castiel carefully slides out of the shower, makes sure not to catch any of his adipose fins under him as he does. When Dean flicks confusion along the edges of the kin-connection, Castiel can’t help looking toward the door to see if he’s there when he answers. _(I told you before, your clothing is unnecessary with me. When it’s just you and me here, you don’t need to wear so much of it.)_

Dean’s laugh echoes through both rooms and he comes back to the bathroom with just his undershorts on and the towels over his shoulders. “Are you saying that if you ever end up trusting me again, you’re going to want me walking around in the buff constantly?”

 _(I wouldn’t object to that.)_ He smiles and holds out his arms for Dean to lift him. _(But the decision is entirely yours. I just don’t see why you should wear them when it’s just us here.)_

“You’ve got a point.” Dean lifts him with a quiet grunt, Castiel’s arms tight around his shoulders. Once he’s settled in the chair, Dean drops one of the towels over Castiel’s head to gently dry his hair before he hangs all the towels along a bar crossing the room above the bathtub. “Alright, let’s go get something to eat.”

 _(Why do you keep speaking with your throat-voice?)_ Castiel twists around in the chair to look up at Dean while he pushes the chair out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. _(You keep switching between how you speak, but you seem to favour talking with your throat-voice.)_

Dean shrugs and a slow grin spreads on his lips. He glances down at Castiel before dipping forward until they’re nose to nose. “Because I remember that _someone_ liked my voice.”

Castiel can feel heat rise in his cheeks and he nearly turns around to avoid the knowing look in Dean’s eyes. But the gentle kiss keeps him from moving more than his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, keeping him in place for a longer, lingering kiss that Dean matches with a steady thrum of warmth pulsing through the kin-connection.

It’s Dean who pulls away first and Castiel lets him go, settling back in the chair properly and no longer feeling even slightly embarrassed that Dean knows how much he likes his voice. He remembers that Dean likes his voice and makes a personal note to learn more of Dean’s language so he can speak to him with his throat-voice. Maybe one day he’ll be able to string together a proper sentence instead of speaking with stilted words.

As they make lunch, Dean points out which drawers and cupboards hold what. Castiel already knows which drawer had the plates and the bowls – and there aren’t very many of those in that drawer to start with. Castiel gets to piece together Dean’s sandwich, carefully constructing it by the instructions Dean gives while he puts a slice of bread in what he calls a ‘toaster’. He cuts up the fish into little chunks for Castiel and leaves them all in the container he’d taken from the fridge.

Castiel balances the plate and his container of fish and toast while Dean pushes him into the couch-room. When he moves to the couch, Dean holds everything and gives it back so he can put the movie into the machine that plays the DVDs.

 _(What happens to everyone once the movie is over?)_ He asks, sitting forward to give Dean the room to sit between him and the end of the couch so Castiel is sitting between his legs, one of Dean’s legs stretched down the back of the couch. _(How come we don’t get to watch the rest of their lives?)_

“These movies are just stories, Cas. This didn’t really happen. Someone imagined it and they used special effects to make it look real.”

_(Are all movies made about fake stories?)_

Dean takes a bite of his sandwich and shakes his head. _(Some are based off real stories. Kinda like how my books are based off our story and what happened to us.)_

_(But these people in the movie, they’re not real?)_

_(The characters aren’t. But the actors who pretend to be the characters are.)_

Castiel hums and nods, only slightly understanding what Dean means. He’s never heard of anyone pretending to be someone else entirely. It’s not something that he’s ever seen happen in the colony or even while he was on Lilith or Crowley’s boats. Even though Crowley tricked them into thinking that he was helping, he was still Crowley.

When they finish their food, Castiel leans more into Dean, turning on his side and working an arm between Dean and the end of the couch. To be honest, Castiel doesn’t pay much attention to the images on the TV or Dean’s translations in the kin-connection. All of his attention is on the warm skin under him and the clean _Dean_ scent filling his senses. By the end of the movie he has no idea how the story properly ended and Castiel doesn’t really care.

“So what did you think?” Dean picks up a remote control – nothing like the one that Lilith used to use on him – and covered in buttons. He points it at the TV to stop the words from crawling up the screen.

_(I think we should kiss again.)_

Dean laughs, short and hard before he drops the remote and runs his hand up Castiel’s arm. “You didn’t pay any attention did you?”

 _(In hindsight, you should probably be wearing clothes. You are very distracting.)_ Castiel lifts his head to press a kiss to that tattoo over Dean’s heart. _(I couldn’t concentrate at all.)_

“Would you like me to remind you who’s bright idea it was that I only wear my boxers?” His grin is wide and teasing by the time Castiel kisses his way to his collarbone, putting his weight on his elbows on either side of Dean’s chest to lift him enough to get to Dean’s mouth.

_(Stop talking and kiss me now.)_

Dean obeys without question, lifting his head to meet Castiel part way. The kisses are slow, almost lazy in how they map each other’s mouths like they’ve forgotten and need to figure it all out again. His hands rest on Castiel’s hips, thumbs brushing the gradual seam where skin becomes scales. He only moves his legs when it’s to lift one and let Castiel curl the lower half of his tail around it.

Surprisingly, Castiel is the one who turns the kisses into more. He’s the one who breaks from the kisses and lifts himself further up Dean’s body to press kissing along his jaw to the space under Dean’s ear. He licks the curved shell and gently nips at the fleshy bottom, amused by the change in Dean’s breathing and the grip of his hands. Castiel sucks lightly in the same place before nosing the spot just under and behind his ear, urging Dean silently to turn his head more. The moment he does, Castiel seals his lips to that spot and sucks harshly.

As expected, Dean’s entire body twitches violently, nearly unseating Castiel from where he lays over him. Castiel doesn’t stop, even when a quiet moan vibrates in Dean’s throat and he sends a shark spike of warning through the kin-connection. He only pulls away after lightly scrapping his teeth over the dark red bruise and enjoying the full body shiver it elicits from Dean.

“That wasn’t fair.” Dean breathes softly, eyes closed and head tilted back as he fights to keep his breathing even.

_(If you would like it to be fair, you may leave another on me.)_

A swirl of excitement twists its way through the kin-connection as Dean lowers his head to look at him, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Really?”

_(Really. It’s only fair.)_

Dean licks his lips and his eyes drift down Castiel’s neck and shoulders. “Where can I –?”

There’s the question Castiel was expecting. But he doesn’t have an answer for Dean. He can’t think of another spot like the back of his neck. Everywhere else is more sensitive, more sexual. But they’ve been kissing for a while now and as pleasurable as it is, there isn’t much heat crawling under his skin. The kisses weren’t meant for either of them to get aroused and neither of them are anywhere near the state they were last night.

He should be able to handle this.

 _(Anywhere.)_ Castiel shrugs and pushes up to put most of his weight on one hand while he gestures at his chest, neck and shoulders. _(You may choose.)_

Delight pulses brightly through the kin-connection and Dean sits up more, propping himself up on his elbows. He keeps sitting up and forcing Castiel to sit back on the curl of his tail. Without being pressed against Dean’s skin, he feels cold and he doesn’t like it. Dean reaches out to Castiel, ghosting his fingers along his jaw and subtly pressing under his chin to tilt his head back. Castiel allows it and suppresses a tremble as Dean’s fingers trace down his neck and over his gills. They travel along his collarbone and down his chest and Castiel holds his breath, refraining from biting his bottom lip when they pass over his ribs near his nipples.

Dean’s hands trace down to his stomach and follow his arms back up over his shoulders, coming to a stop at the curve where neck becomes shoulder. One hand falls away and Dean presses two fingers into the spot on Castiel’s left. “Here?”

Castiel tilts his head down again and nods. He closes his eyes and leans his head to the side, baring that spot for Dean. The last thing he expects, and not even the kin-connection predicts it, is to be pushed back onto the other side of the couch. Dean climbs over Castiel’s tail, straddling his hips easily as he leans over him for a kiss that is gentler than Castiel thought it would be.

_(If you want me to stop, just tell me.)_

He nods and moves his head to the side again. This time he does gently worry at his bottom lip with his teeth as Dean lines his gills with kisses before he reaches the spot he chose. Castiel tries to keep his breathing even when Dean starts with a gentle bite, but he can already feel his heart rate climbing and the heat spreading through his bones as Dean fills the kin-connection with a possessive warmth that Castiel doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of feeling.

His hands find their way to Dean’s back, fingertips digging in along his shoulder blades as his claws press into his skin. In some small part of his mind that isn’t entirely focused on the sensations Dean brings to his body with the simple touch of lips to skin, Castiel makes a note that if he’s going to be spending more time here with Dean than he is with his colony, then he should probably find a way to make his claws blunt again. He doesn’t want to accidentally hurt Dean with them and if he’s ever ready to do more with him, he will eventually need his fingers to be able to work Dean open. It would be torture to have to watch Dean do it himself and not be allowed to touch too.

Castiel knows this as fact, remembering the day on Crowley’s boat that they had sex in the bathroom. Dean had used that to tease him, to get Castiel riled up as he made him watch and threatened to stop entirely if Castiel tried to help in anyway. Remembering that day sends a whole new spike of heat through him, forcing a surprised whine from his mouth as it finds its home deep in his gut.

Dean pauses, lifting his mouth away from Castiel’s neck. Each word is a new gust of air over his skin. “You doing okay, Cas?”

He hums softly and turns his head to press a kiss to the spot he made under Dean’s ear. It leads to more kissing, ones that last longer and burn deeper and Castiel can’t find the energy to care that Dean is laying over him fully. His hands can’t seem to hold still, travelling the expanse of Dean’s back from tangling in his hair to nearly gripping his – his – there was a word for it that he knew once but Castiel can’t remember it right now – through his undershorts and holding him down more firmly.

They kiss until they can’t anymore, Dean tilting his head to rest their foreheads together so they can simply _breathe_. Castiel’s hands settle around the back of Dean’s head, cradling it between his palms. It takes them both several minutes to catch their breath and all the _hope_ Dean fills the kin-connection with forces a smile to Castiel’s lips. He didn’t pull away from this. Even though the muscles of his sheath are twitching faintly and he can clearly smell the shift in Dean’s scent as arousal started to pump through his veins like it does through Castiel’s, he didn’t pull away.

This wasn’t too much. It was just the right amount and it’s progress. That’s why Dean has hope. Progress and good and it sparks the same kind of hope in him. Dean’s hope sings through the kin-connection, interwoven with all that warmth he feels and Castiel widens the filter the keeps his own warmth at bay, letting more of it flow through to mingle with Dean’s feelings. It only serves to buoy Dean’s mood and he breaks into a wide grin all his own.

“You ready to make pie now?”

_(If you’re using that as euphemism, I don’t think you’ll like my answer.)_

Dean blinks down at him for a moment before he realizes that Castiel was making a joke. His laughter takes over and he ends up with his face pressed to Castiel’s shoulder as his shoulders shake under his hands. Castiel is extremely pleased with his ability to make Dean laugh. He gets one more quick kiss before Dean rolls off him and the couch.

“C’mon, let’s go make some pie. You still have to taste test which fruit we should make it out of.”

Castiel hums and stretches before he sits up and accepts Dean’s help to move onto his wheelchair. Once they’re in the kitchen, Dean lifts him to sit on the ledge. Castiel tries each of the little bulbs that Dean calls berries. There’s another kind of bulb called a cherry, but apparently that isn’t a berry. There is also a red fruit called an apple that Dean cuts a slice from for him to try. It’s sweet, but it doesn’t have the same kind of tangy aftertaste as the others.

 _(That one. I like that one.)_ He points at the apple before he’s barely finished swallowing the piece.

“Good ol’ fashioned apple pie it is then.” Dean grins at him and pops a slice into his mouth before putting away everything else.

As he bangs around in the cupboards and drawers from the items that he needs, he explains just what they’re going to be doing. Castiel looks forward to watching the tasty science that Jess once said that she liked to do. Every item that Dean puts on the counter, boxes of things and bowls and sticks with flat ends that look a little like paddles, Castiel arranges them in neat rows for convenience.

Dean puts him in charge of holding the biggest bowl and an item that looks like several strings of metal attached together. It’s rounded at one end and pointed at the other where the ends of the strings come together. There’s space in between them and Castiel could stick his finger through them and into the middle space of he wanted to.

“It’s a whisk, Cas. You’re going to use it to mix the ingredients while I put them in the bowl.” Dean explains as he measures out powders and liquids and starts dumping them into the bowl.

Castiel takes his job very seriously and stirs with smooth moments, even when the ingredients grow tacky and start to stick to the whisk. When that happens, Dean uses a spoon to scrap it from between the metal strings and gives him one of the miniature paddles. This time he calls it a spatula and it makes stirring much easier. With it, Castiel can scrape the sticky bits from the side of the bowl to keep it attached to the rest of the bowl.

“This is the dough and it’s going to make up the top and bottom of the pie.” Dean explains as he takes the bowl and dumps the solid contents onto the ledge top. He separates it into two pieces and works them into flat discs that he wraps in plastic and puts in the fridge. “They’ll have to be in there for an hour, so we can take our time making the apple filling.”

Dean measures out more things, but he leaves them in their little cups and spoons. As he cuts the apples, Castiel gets to dump all the ingredients into a new bowl. In a third bowl he dumps a liquid that has a sharp smell to it. He goes against Dean’s warnings and licks a drop of it from his finger. The taste matches the smell, sharp and powerful and _sour_. Dean has to stop cutting and take a moment to laugh.

“Let me get the camera and then you’ve got to do that again. That was the best lemon pucker ever.”

 _(Absolutely not. I don’t want to taste that again. Don’t use it.)_ He shakes his head and reaches for a slice of apple to get the taste from his tongue.

“No can do. I need it for the recipe. I promise with everything else in the pie, you won’t be able to taste it.” Dean moves the bowl out of the way and gives Castiel a metal pot. He points at the lines etched on the inside of the pot. “Fill this with water until it reaches this line.”

Castiel turns around to his other side where the sink sits next to him and follows Dean’s instructions. He takes the pot away when it’s full and puts it on the stove to heat. When the surface of the water starts to bubble, Dean dumps in the other ingredients from the bowl Castiel had mixed and he stirs that while Castiel takes all the sliced apple pieces and adds them to the bowl with the sour liquid. He uses the spatula again to mix the apples, making sure that they all get coated evenly.

By the time he’s done, Dean takes at bowl and adds all the apples to the pot. Dean fiddles with the knobs on the back of the stove before placing a cover over the pot and he leaves it alone while they clean up the mess they made. Castiel gets to rinse the dishes in the sink before Dean puts them in the dishwasher. Once they’re finished that, Dean moves the pot to the other side of the stove and wipes his hands on a small towel hanging from the handle on the front of the stove.

“Well, that needs a good half hour to cool at least and the dough needs time too.” He looks to Castiel and raises one eyebrow. “You up for a swim?”

Castiel missed Dean’s ridiculous questions.

They swim in the shade of the house, racing back and forth between the columns that support it. Dean shows him the tubes where water is pulled from and returns to the cove by the filtration system and Castiel shows him the bottom of the cove when Dean holds his breath and allows Castiel to drag him down. This part of the cove isn’t deep enough for the pressure change in the water to bother Dean and he lets Castiel pull him around the sandy bottom for as long as he can hold his breath.

While Dean is drying off on the dock, Castiel makes a quick trip across the cove to the area he marked off with rocks. Dean helps him out of the water when he’s done and immediately covers him with a towel and lifts him. He doesn’t wait for Castiel to dry off or drip dry before he carries him back inside. Castiel doesn’t get to properly dry off until he’s back in the wheelchair.

“I’m going to be forever paranoid that you’re going to get a sunburn and die from it one day.” Dean explains, leaving him to dry his hair while he takes care of the apples on the stove.

 _(In that case we should just keep our swimming times to when the cove walls block bright-pearl or at night.)_ Castiel offers, wheeling his chair closer. _(Staying in the shade of the house is fine too.)_

Dean shrugs and dumps the entire pot into one of the bowls that hadn’t gone into the dishwasher. “Sounds good to me. As long as you don’t get sick from it, I’ll be happy. We still need to wait a bit for the dough crust and this needs to cool more. I’m going to go change back and then we can start getting supper ready.”

The preparations for supper consists of Dean getting out a big metal pot from the very back of one of the cupboards. It’s filled with a congealed yellow paste that doesn’t smell very good when Dean removes the lid and takes out a metal basket. There is a cord at the back of it that Dean attaches to the wall and he turns a knob on the front of it.

“That’s for the French fries. I’m keeping the heat low so the oil won’t heat too fast. It should be ready by the time we’re ready to make supper.” Dean puts the lid back on and pushes it back against the wall. “I should probably be baking the fries so you can have more, but it’s a special occasion, so I’ll fry them this once and you’re only going to get a little bit.”

_(But I want more than a little bit.)_

“And I don’t want to kill you with food your system isn’t used to.” Dean shrugs and gets a few packages filled with red things from the fridge. “I want you to live a good long life, so you’re just going to have to suck it up.”

It’s not enough for Castiel to be upset by and he settles back in his chair to watch Dean open the red packages and dump them into a clean bowl. He sections his thoughts, half-listening to Dean’s explanation about what he’s making the hamburgers out of. The rest of his mind is figuring out exactly what he’s going to tell the council. His argument for why he should be allowed to continue seeing Dean will have to be flawless if he expects all of them to agree to it.

The final decision lies with Michael, but if anyone makes a strong enough objection to it they might be able to sway him to banning Castiel from seeing Dean. And if that happens, Castiel knows that he _wants_ to come back to Dean anyways. But if he does that, the council will likely decide to either exile him –where he’ll be killed on sight if he tries to return to visit or perform his duties like he hopes to do, or they’ll issue an order for him to be killed immediately to keep the colony safe, or the moment Castiel leaves they’ll decide to move the colony.

Can he really be that selfish? Can he deprive his entire colony of their home and force them to swim hundreds of leagues to find a new place to live, knowing that the chances of finding a location as lucrative as the trench are slim to none?

Right now, watching Dean move around the kitchen and hum his favourite songs under his breath while he works, Castiel thinks that he can be. But a few days from now, when he’s facing the colony and the council in the middle of the auditorium, he might have a different answer. There’s another question that occurs to him and Castiel thinks he already has an answer that isn’t going to change no matter where he is or when it’s posed.

Is Dean worth it?

“Dean.”

He looks over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Castiel makes a vague gesture. _(Wash your hands and come here.)_

“What for?”

_(Do it, please.)_

Confusion and concern flare along the edges of Dean’s mind as he follows Castiel’s instructions, stopping only to dry his hands on the towel hanging from the stove before he comes over to where the wheelchair is. Castiel holds his arms out, a silent request to be lifted and Dean raises an eyebrow before he does it, one arm curving under the swell of Castiel’s tail and the other around the small of his back as he lifts him so they’re face to face.

“What’s up, Cas?”

He kisses him, muffling the surprised sound Dean makes. He tangles his fingers in Dean’s hair and winds his tail around his hips and one of his legs. Castiel kisses him until Dean’s surprise fades away and he responds enthusiastically. The slick slide of tongue and lips and the sheer amount of _warmth_ in the kin-connection is all the answer that Castiel needs and he pulls away with a final suck of Dean’s tongue.

Dean lowers him back into the chair slowly after he uncurls his tail from around him. “Am I allowed to know what that was all about?”

Castiel hums and smiles up at him, pulsing content and warmth into the kin-connection. _(You are.)_

After a moment, Dean tilts his head. “Well?”

 _(That’s the answer. You are. This is too.)_ He gestures at the house around them. _(All of it is.)_

“Cas, buddy, you lost me.”

 _(Worth it.)_ Instead of curling his tail in the bucket again, Castiel twists the end around one of Dean’s calves and flares the round half-circles of his end fans over the tattoos. _(No matter what happens when I go back, this is worth it.)_

This time it’s Dean who kisses Castiel. If there was the room on the chair for his knees, he’s certain that Dean would at least make some attempt to climb into his lap. As it is, Dean has to hold the back of the chair to keep it from rolling away as he presses Castiel back into it, kissing him soundly and taking what little breath he had left from the kisses he just gave Dean.

When Dean eventually pulls away, he crouches in front of the chair and rests his forehead on the fold of Castiel’s tail, his sharp breaths washing over his scales. It takes them both a few moments to compose themselves before Dean lifts his head again. Even though there’s a tidal storm of joy washing through the kin-connection, there’s still hesitation twisting under its waves.

It takes Dean a few tries before he manages to force out his question. “What does that mean for us?”

 _(It means that you’re winning. It means that there’s no ‘if’ I’ll ever be able to trust you again, it’s only a ‘when’. And that might be sooner than either of us thinks.)_ Castiel smiles softly, lowering even more of the filter around his warmth.

Dean answers with another wide, nearly deliriously happy, grin. Now, as he gets back to forming the patties for the hamburgers, he whistles as he works. Castiel can even recognize some of the songs – specifically, the ones that are Dean’s favourite. He leans back in his chair, hands folded in his lap, and listens, humming along for the ones he knows.

When the things for the pie are ready to use again, Dean sets up the items they’ll need for that before he moves Castiel back up onto the ledge. The things for the hamburgers are set aside and they begin forming one of the dough discs into the bottom of the pie. Putting it all together is a messy endeavor and Castiel’s black scales end up white in places from the powder that Dean sprinkles lightly on the ledge and the dough. The apple filling is sweeter than the apple had been and Castiel wonders if he can use the lure of sweet foods to sway Gabriel into agreeing to let him see Dean. It’s low handed of him to resort to using a bribe, but Dean is worth it.

At one point, Dean had gone outside through the doors off the kitchen. Castiel doesn’t understand why until after the pie goes into the cave under the stove and Dean hands him the plate of hamburgers. He pushes Castiel outside to where there is another machine that Castiel doesn’t recognize. Dean calls it a barbeque and he says that it’s used for cooking meats with fire.  

This isn’t the first time that Castiel has seen fire and it’s not as scary here as it was when it was consuming the walls of Lilith’s office. Castiel watches Dean drop the patties on top of blackened bars over the fire and closes the lid. While they cook, Dean goes inside to put frozen fries in the basket from the oil pot and puts that into the oil.

Castiel can hear the hissing and popping of the fries cooking from where he’s sitting out on the deck. He hasn’t been to this side of the deck before and at the end of the deck, to the left of the door, there are two big boxes sitting side by side. Dean explains that one is where he puts the garbage and one is where he puts the recycling so that it doesn’t stink up the house.

It doesn’t take long before either the fries or the hamburgers are done.

“Do you want yours cut up or do you want to try eating it like me?”

 _(Like you.)_ Castiel watches as Dean puts them together like sandwiches and puts fries on the plates too. Dean gets more fries than he does, but Castiel knows that he’ll share them with him anyways.

While they eat, Castiel tells Dean about some of the battles he led his garrison into and explains more about the fang-fin than he did while Sam and Jess were here. Dean seems even more interested now and he leaves the table for a moment in the middle of a story to get his notebook and he scribbles nearly a whole page of words in small writing, drawing arcing lines around the page when he needs to.

Castiel has determined that the notebooks are what Dean does his writing in and that’s his job now, so he doesn’t question what Dean is writing. Something he said – something Dean’s _muse_ said – has inspired him and Castiel doesn’t speak again until Dean puts the notebook aside and starts eating his hamburger again.

 _(Do you still fix machines?)_ Castiel tilts his head toward the notebook. _(You write now, but do you still fix machines like you used to?)_

Dean nods and swallows, washing back his food with a sip of water. “Yeah, sure. I’m a mechanic for hire at the repair shop down at the town’s docks. If they need an extra set of hands, they can always call me in to help out. It doesn’t pay a whole lot, but it’s fun.”

_(Do you do anything else?)_

“Like what?”

_(Anna likes to collect shells and stones and make necklaces from them. Do you do anything like that?)_

He snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t make jewelry if that’s what you’re asking. And I don’t collect anything either – unless notebooks count. But I do like to tinker. I’m working on something upstairs in my workshop that should help you get down to the water and back up to here easier than the stairs.”

Castiel sits up straighter, looking at Dean in surprise. Just this morning he’d been thinking about asking Dean if they could make something like that. Dean only smiles at him and shrugs. “I’ve been working on it for a while. I couldn’t really bring myself to finish it when I didn’t know if I was ever going to find you or not. And I know there’s no guarantee that you’re gonna be able to come back, but when I’m not writing I’ll probably be upstairs working on it.”

After a moment of silence, Castiel puts down what remains of his hamburger and wipes his hands clean on the damp cloth that Dean had given him. He gathers his thoughts and forces the nervousness from them. There’s nothing to be worried over or nervous about right now.

Dean looks up at him with concern trembling along the kin-connection. Castiel brushes that aside too, reaching through their link to wrap Dean’s mind with the warmth that has nearly doubled in the amount that he had been sharing this morning. Any tension in Dean’s body releases, but his confusion doesn’t wane even slightly. Not until Castiel speaks.

_(There are very few things that the colony could do to keep me from coming back to you.)_

 

 


	46. Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oddly enough, he doesn’t think he’ll mind them as much if it means that he’ll wake to having Dean here and safe next to him. Sharing that thought lifts Dean’s mood and he even smiles, leaning down without warning to press a gentle kiss to the bandage over his stomach. He presses little light kisses up Castiel’s chest, making his adipose-fins flutter, until he’s within reach for a proper kiss. It’s light and teasing and distracts Castiel enough that he doesn’t notice what Dean’s hands are doing until he’s unceremoniously pulled to the edge of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: sadly-i- buttinspectorkirby, notactuallyaurl, candyandcraig, thefirebirdschild, angelheadedcas, manicies, loathingplum, salt-and-leather, wimey, and deaths-impala.
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

After Castiel’s admittance, Dean is left speechless. He stares at him from across the table, one French fry half raised to his mouth. Castiel watches him steadily, waiting for Dean to process the information. Waiting for Dean to realize that even though he’s not ready to give himself completely again, he has made his choice.

The best case scenario will always be getting to have both his colony and Dean. But for the last six seasons – the last three years – he’s had his family and it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t as happy with them as he once was. He’d had a taste of something _more_ and as normal as it is to be with his family, he wanted that _more_ again.

For the last three years he’s wanted _Dean_ again. There is a place inside in him where Dean had dug himself a home and when he left, he left that place gaping empty like a wound. It hurt and it made it impossible for Castiel to be truly happy the last few years. It hurt and that had made him angry with Dean for so long – until he forgave him.

It took time and thought, but Castiel did eventually understand why Dean did what he did. After seasons of thinking about it, he finally determined that he would have been happy with Dean at his home, but it would have been the same kind of happy he had with his family without Dean. Happy, but not completely. He wouldn’t have his family, or the ocean, and he would constantly have to be hidden away from everyone.

And that’s something he would never want to do to Dean, or to himself. His decision six seasons ago was fueled by the fear of losing what he had with Dean. Everyone was right in telling him that neither of them had thought it through. Castiel didn’t _want_ to think it through then because all he wanted was to stay with Dean. He knows that Dean wanted that too, but he also knows that Dean struggled with a deep rooted self-hatred and doubted everything good. His doubts had thinking of everything Castiel didn’t want to think of. His doubts made him see back then what it took Castiel seasons to realize.

Dean may not have gone about it the best way to get Castiel to see that his decision was the wrong one, and he may have left with the intent of never seeing each other again, but Castiel _understands_ now. He has since he forgave him. Just because he understands doesn’t mean he wasn’t hurt by it. That hurt keeps him from trusting Dean again so soon, but Dean is so open in the kin-connection. He’s honest and sure and he’s already been living here and looking for Castiel for longer than they even knew each other. All the evidence Dean is giving him is almost enough for that. It’s just time that he needs now.

Slowly, Dean lowers his fry and closes his mouth. He blinks several times as the surprise slowly abates from the kin-connection to be replaced with a blistering hope. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

 _(I don’t see how what I said could possibly have any other meaning.)_ Dean’s hope brings a smile to his lips. _(Unless the council decides on killing me to protect the colony and I don’t manage to escape, I will return here no matter any other decision they make.)_

Dean’s smile falls. “They would actually _kill you_ because of me?” His voices comes out choked and small as horror fills the kin-connection. “Cas, if there’s a chance that they might kill you, you can’t go back.” He stands sharply, his chair skidding on the floor, panic edging his words. “I can’t lose you again, not like that, not when I’ll have no way of knowing what happened to you –”

Castiel forces calm into the kin-connection, wrapping it around Dean’s mind and pushing away his upset. _(If anything happens to me, I’ll make sure that you will know. I can get Anna or Balthazar to promise to find you and tell you if anything happens where I won’t be able to come to you myself.)_

His calming touch eases Dean’s emotions, but he still looks wide-eyed and worried. Castiel pushes his chair away from the table too, only managing to roll it to the corner of the table before Dean comes around it to stand in front of him. “What are you doing, Cas?”

He holds his arms out for Dean to lift him again and the moment Castiel is close enough, he kisses him. Kisses have proven to be a good distraction from nerves in the past and now seems no different. The longer he kisses Dean, the more he can feel the tense lines of his body unwind under his hands and scales. Castiel doesn’t stop until the sea of Dean’s mind is calm again, even then he runs his hands through Dean’s hair and rests their foreheads together.

 _(There is nothing to worry about. If they were going to kill me, they would have done so instead of giving me a rotation to visit you. They wouldn’t have given me the opportunity to work out everything with you like we have.)_ He rubs the end of his tail against Dean’s leg. _(The chances of that happening after I return with everything that I’ve learned are small at best, especially when three of the five council members are my brothers.)_

“You could have said that to start with, y’know. Instead of nearly giving me a frikken heart attack.” Dean grumbles, turning his face to scrape his cheek against the stubble on Castiel’s jaw. He squeezes him tightly once before placing him back in the wheelchair.

They return to dinner and discuss what to do with the rest of the evening. Dean wants him to try pie and Castiel is looking forward to dessert after his stomach has settle from supper. His hamburger was cut in half – Dean says it’s so he won’t get sick with all the new foods. It just means that when they go swimming before bed, Castiel will have a snack. He saw a few different kinds of crabs that he could eat, and there are probably some snails somewhere.

After supper and before pie, Castiel chooses listening to Dean read a book over watching another movie. The moving pictures make him dizzy if he’s trying to watch that and listen to Dean’s translations at the same time. No matter how quickly Dean translates or explains the scenes, everything always come a little later than the words actually spoken on the screen and it’s disorienting.

With books it’s different and much more enjoyable. They can lay or sit on the couch together, and depending on which position they’re in, Castiel can either have his cheek or his back to Dean’s chest. If he’s laying on his stomach over Dean, he likes to listen to his heart beat and feel the heat of his skin pressed against him. If it’s his back, he likes to watch Dean flip the pages and he tries to follow along with the words, hoping it will help him learn faster.

They never did finish the book that Dean had been reading to him before, and that’s the book that Dean picks now. The details of the story are hazy and mostly forgotten and Dean restarts it without needing to be asked. Castiel settles back against Dean’s chest, his tail folded up for Dean to rest the book against when he props it open on his stomach. He reads the words with his throat-voice, quietly murmuring them against Castiel’s side-fan.

It’s what they do for an hour before the pie which is much sweeter than Castiel expected, but the flaky crust and the slide of the apple pieces on his tongue makes up for it. Whatever his external reaction is, it must be what Dean was hoping for. His smile is wide and bright and the kin-connection is pulsing hard with pride, warmth, and joy.

Dean even has a camera out, one that is much bigger and a side of it folds out and twists sideways and up. He announces the date, the time, and what the event is. If Castiel says anything, Dean repeats it out loud for the camera and he laughs at every face that Castiel makes at him for it while he eats the pie.

“Just be happy that this is the first time I got the camera out.” Dean says around mouthfuls of his own slice after he finally turns the camera off. “I kinda hate that I forgot about it and didn’t get you trying out the wheelchair for the first time, or when you first got here, or any of that stuff.”

Castiel shrugs as he licks his fingers clean. _(We will always have our memories. And there will always other things you can capture with your camera.)_

“Like what? You’re first proper bath in the tub?”

 _(Among other things.)_ Castiel glances at the camera and remembers the first time that Dean took a proper video of them. He lets part of that memory slip into the kin-connection and almost immediately Dean starts coughing and thumping at his chest. Once Dean regains his breathing and Castiel is no longer worried for him, he pushes his plate away and carries on as if nothing happened. _(And you can always film my arrival when I come back from the colony during the next rotation.)_

Dean is still staring at him, his mouth open and colour in his cheeks. “You – you –”

_(We can’t move on until you finish your thought, Dean.)_

“You play dirty.” His expression twists into something only recognizable by the emotions in the kin-connection. There’s amusement, wry disapproval, and quite a bit of anticipation twisting between them. As he collects the plates, Dean leans down until his mouth is against Castiel’s side-fan. “I’ll just have to get you back for that when you least expect it.”

A heated shiver runs down Castiel’s spine, making his adipose fans tremble as a tingling sensation settles under his scales. He’s well aware of the suggestive inflection to his words and even if Dean says that he’s revenge will be exacted when Castiel least expects it, he’s fairly certain that vengeance will come when he’s finally able to be more intimate with Dean again. If Dean thinks he’s going to be able to tease him again, then he is sorely mistaken.

They read on the couch again until bright-pearl has set and it’s time to swim. Dean spends their time in the water mostly floating on his back. Castiel finds a few snacks before he joins him, nothing more than a couple snails that he sucks from their shells and some fish. Once he’s satisfied, he floats beside Dean and together they pick out shapes in the stars. There are ones that Dean knows – the ones that he learned when he moved here, and the ones he decided himself. They make new ones based on fin-kin lore and Castiel devotes their locations to memory. Maybe one day he can take his family to the surface during the night and show them that fin-kin are in the stars too.

Once Castiel tells Dean what he ate, Dean refuses to kiss him no matter how much sea water he rinses his mouth out with. It takes a decent tooth brushing and tongue scrubbing before he lets that happen again. They only happen once they’re both tucked into bed and Castiel’s natural glow is the only light in the room. These kisses are long and sweet and Castiel can’t help letting his hands wander, mapping the muscles of Dean’s back and sides. When they finally sleep, Dean is tucked tightly against him, his nose against Castiel’s gills and an arm around his waist. Castiel’s tail is tangled with his legs and it’s warm and peaceful and the closest to perfect he’s felt in a very long time.

His dreams start out like normal, dark and in the deeps. But this time, Dean is there, swimming among the fin-kin like Castiel knows he should never be able to. The red heat from the volcanic vent at the base of the trench lights them from below and Castiel is fascinated with the way the reds and oranges dance over Dean’s skin. It makes him want to touch and in his dreams, he does what he wants, what he won’t allow himself to do while he’s awake.

But when Castiel reaches for Dean, he can’t touch him. There’s a wall of glass between them that Castiel can’t get around, he keeps swimming into glass walls and they’re closer and tighter together. It’s like being trapped in very-small-sea again. Castiel is stuck in the middle of the trench and he’s separated from the sea, from his family, from _Dean_. No matter how much he slams his shoulders, his fists or his tail into the glass, it doesn’t move and it doesn’t break.

It takes Castiel a while to notice that the dark around him isn’t of the trench at all. It’s black air. He once knew the word for it, but he can’t remember it now. Not when he can see Dean within reach and the red of the vent isn’t the vent at all. It’s blood soaking through a white coat – a coat Dean never wore. But this is wrongwrong _wrong_. Dean wasn’t in Lilith’s office when the explosion happened. Alistair was the one bleeding and dead on the floor. It wasn’t Dean staring at him with wide, vacant eyes while the red-yellow-orange of the fire ate away at his legs while Castiel throws himself at the glass, his throat burning with the ache of shouting Dean’s name and never being heard.

There are more bodies lying beyond Dean. Castiel can see them, strewn across a floor much bigger than Lilith’s office ever had. He recognizes fin-kin and humans, his brothers and sister, Jess and Sam. He can see them all between the smoke and the flames and he can’t get to them – he can’t help any of them no matter how much he screams and fights the glass walls.

Castiel wakes with a start, a tight and panicked pain squeezing his chest like the hands squeezing his wrists. His glow brightens sharply, filling the surrounding area with enough light to see that Dean is sitting above him, his weight heavy over Castiel’s hips and wrists as he keeps him pinned to th bed. The world is blurry to his eyes and Castiel blinks away tears, breathing deep through his nose to try and calm himself like Dean is urging him to do in the clouded kin-connection.

Several minutes pass and the panic ebbs away slowly as he focuses on the Dean’s mind-voice and the concern lining his instructions to breathe and relax. But it all comes crashing back the moment Castiel notices the scent of blood in the air. He tries to sit up but Dean’s hands move from his wrists to his shoulders, keeping him down.

“Don’t move.”

 _(But you –)_ Castiel starts, barely able to form the thought that _he_ hurt Dean again. He made him bleed again and it’s his fault Dean is hurt –

“Don’t move or you’re gonna hurt yourself more.” Dean pushes on his shoulders forcefully. “Just stay there and let me go get the first aid kit.” Red images flicker into the kin-connection, this time coming from Dean’s mind instead, showing him the damage he did.

He tries sitting up again the moment Dean is off the bed and the light in the bathroom turns on. Castiel hisses, wincing as pain stings through his abdomen. There’s blood smeared on his stomach and when he touches it he can feel the scratches hidden by the blood. The bedroom light turns on too when Dean comes back and Castiel squeezes his eyes shut against the stabbing sensation behind his eyes.

Irritation surges once through the kin-connection as the bed dips under Dean’s weight again. “I told you not to move.”

_(I wanted to see what I did.)_

“Stop touching it.” Dean pulls his hand away and orders him to lay back down once his layers a few towels under his back.

Castiel stays propped up on his elbows until Dean shoves extra pillows under his head so he can watch as Dean pours warm water over his stomach and lets it soak into the towels as it washes away the blood. He uses cloths that have to be unwrapped from a crinkling packages first to dry and clean the area around the scratches. They’re not too deep and there’s only a few of them, which means not all of Castiel’s claws caught in his skin.

“As soon as you started getting twitchy, I got the hell out of the way.” Dean explains as he lays a different kind of cloth over the wounds. It’s thicker and has sticky edges that keep it sealed to his skin. “I was gonna try and wake you out of it from a distance since you’ve got the claws and the teeth and if you hit me with your tail you’d probably send me across the room, but I’ve never seen you have a nightmare before and it’s –” He pauses in running his fingers along the edges of what Castiel now realizes is a bandage. “I kinda forgot about how you saw pieces of my nightmare that time I had dreamed about the fire when I was a kid. I wasn’t really expecting to get brain-slammed with all of that, or I would have woken you up sooner. You clawed your stomach by accident when you started to kind flail.”

 _(It’s alright, I understand. That wasn’t my first nightmare.)_ Although it was the first time that he hurt himself during one. He watches as Dean packs up everything back into the little white box with a red symbol on the top of it. _(I have at least one every few weeks for the last several seasons.)_

Dean’s hands hesitate over the box, but there’s no surprise in the kin-connection. _(You started having them after we split up?)_

He nods again and remorse fills the kin-connection. Castiel soothes the tattered edges of the regret as Dean takes the blame onto himself. It’s not Dean’s fault that everything that happened on Lilith’s boat is a weight in his mind that will likely take several more seasons to go away – if they ever will. It was almost Castiel’s whole life time since Dean’s traumatic loss of his mother, and he still had nightmares about it when they first met. So it’s entirely possible that Castiel will never be free of the skewed memories that play while he sleeps.

Oddly enough, he doesn’t think he’ll mind them as much if it means that he’ll wake to having Dean here and safe next to him. Sharing that thought lifts Dean’s mood and he even smiles, leaning down without warning to press a gentle kiss to the bandage over his stomach. He presses little light kisses up Castiel’s chest, making his adipose-fins flutter, until he’s within reach for a proper kiss. It’s light and teasing and distracts Castiel enough that he doesn’t notice what Dean’s hands are doing until he’s unceremoniously pulled to the edge of the bed.

Amusement burns through the kin-connection and Dean muffles a laugh as he helps Castiel to the floor. “Since we’re up we might as well get this done.”

He takes his time with spraying over Castiel’s fans and scales, working the water into his adipose-fins or the webbing between the spines of his fans with gentle fingers. It’s a relaxing touch that brings a purr to rumble loudly in his chest as he leans into Dean’s hands and the small kisses he sometimes drops to the back of his head or his shoulder. Only twice does he lick him, and that’s to clean water from the hickeys he left on the back and side of Castiel’s neck.

Despite the languid head curling under his skin, brought on by Dean’s attentions, Castiel is being lulled to sleep by the soft touches and sheer amount of warmth flooding the kin-connection. When he wakes again in the morning, bright-pearl’s light filling the room and Dean’s quiet snores muffled by the pillows, Castiel thinks he might have fallen asleep before he was even back in the bed. He doesn’t try and wake Dean, preferring instead to twist around in his arms and watch him sleep.

After six seasons of thinking he would never see Dean again, it’s still a little difficult to believe that he’s here. It’s like a dream, even though he knows that he could never dream up all the things that fill this house. Today is the fifth day since he first saw Dean again and even after so many days, he still finds it unbelievable that Dean is back. He’s here, he loves him, he needs him, and all he’s done is just more evidence that this could very well be _permanent_.

It brings a smile to Castiel’s lips, small and fond. He knows that Dean won’t notice while his mind is still wrapped tightly in the sleep-fog, but he still drops that last remaining wall and eases his own warmth into the kin-connection. That hollow space in his chest that he carried for the last several seasons is nearly gone, filled with the warmth Dean shares without question or filter.

He traces the details of Dean’s face, neck and shoulders with his eyes, comparing any differences he sees in him to the Dean he remembers from before. There aren’t many and Castiel is content to just lay and watch him sleep. Since he was the first to drop off last night, he doesn’t know how long Dean was awake. Rather than wake him now for food or a swim, Castiel would rather they just lay like this. He wants to read more of the book today, and maybe they’ll read it here in the bed where there’s more room and pillows.

Today he’d like to show Dean his box of treasures and tell him the story behind each one. And he wants to see what the upstairs looks like, see the room that Sam and Jess stay in and the room prepared for when they visit with their babies. He’d like to see the storage room and the things that Dean might keep in there, and the place he calls his ‘workshop’. He wants to see all the places in the house and learn everything that he can – especially if this is going to be his home too.

Castiel doesn’t know how much time has passed before watching isn’t enough anymore. He carefully squirms closer and presses light kisses to Dean’s jaw, rough with a night’s worth of stubble. It reminds him that he hasn’t shaved in a few days and he should probably do that this morning. Dean hums a soft noise when Castiel presses his nose under his jaw, gently urging him to tilt his head back to give him access to the bruise still stark against the hard center of his throat where he can press licks and kisses to it and the area around it, his hands tracing gentle patterns against Dean’s back and sides.

The sleep-fog is lifting from the kin-connection and Castiel lets Dean feel the full waves of the warmth he shares before he raises the filter again, keeping it wider than it was yesterday. There’s barely anymore need for it, but Castiel isn’t quite ready to share all of it with Dean while he’s fully conscious. Not yet. But soon – maybe in the next few days, maybe when he leaves to return to the colony or when he comes back. He doesn’t know, but he likes to think that it will be soon. Castiel wants things to be like they were before, but without the constraint of a limited time together or a threat to his colony hanging over their heads.

Dean fills the kin-connection with joy and warmth once the sleep-fog has nearly lifted completely. Amusement curls through the channels, accompanied with only one small pulse of disappointment when Castiel raises the filter around his warmth.

“Y’know –” Dean starts before a yawn cuts him off and he continues in the kin-connection. _(You woke me up like this before.)_

 _(I’m aware. It’s a fond memory.)_ Castiel smiles around one last kiss to his mark, pulling back to give Dean a proper kiss, slow and sleepy. _(I’m afraid that this time will not be the same.)_

He hums into the kiss, extracting one leg from under Castiel’s tail to throw it over top instead. They kiss in gentle touches of lips and teasing swipes of tongues until Dean has to get up to use the washroom. Castiel carefully lowers himself to the floor off the edge of the bed and push-pulls himself to wait by the door. He wants to take another shower this morning and to get his dagger so he can shave.

Dean gets the dagger from the ledge in the couch-room and changes into his swim shorts, having to get them from the crumpled and damp heap they’re in on the floor of the tub, while Castiel sets out towels outside the shower. He’s waiting inside the shower by the time Dean is ready and he responds to the discomfort in the kin-connection with confusion.

“It’s the shorts.” Dean mumbles, tugging at one of the leg holes on and shifts on his feet while he turns on the shower. “They’re cold and really fucking uncomfortable to put on when they’re like this.”

Castiel tilts his face into the spray and closes his eyes while he feels out his cheeks and jaw. _(If they’re uncomfortable, take them off.)_

The surprise that spikes through the kin-connection is nearly enough to make Castiel wince. He looks up at Dean, tilting his head and pushing an amused curiosity at him. There’s no doubt in his mind why Dean is surprised with his suggestion. But Castiel wants to test his boundaries. He wants to push at them and break them because he knows what he _wants_ and he just needs the rest of him to catch up to that.

“That’s –” Dean stops to lick his lips and swallow, glancing from his swim-shorts to Castiel and back. “You wouldn’t have told me to do it if you weren’t sure, right?”

 _(Exactly.)_ Castiel smiles and looks down at his lap and the dagger resting across it. _(It’ll be like the first time I shaved while we were in the shower together. I won’t look or touch – or, at least, I won’t touch anywhere above your knees.)_

“Yeah. Okay. That – uh – that sounds good.”

Castiel closes his eyes again, his side-fan flicking at the slapping sounds the swim-shorts make when Dean takes them off and throws them back into the tub. He doesn’t open them for the rest of the shower while Dean cleans up and Castiel shaves by touch alone, turning his face up for Dean to check every once in a while. Dean remains impressed with his ability to shave blind and Castiel tries not to think about how Dean is naked and only inches away from him.

He tries to ignore the tight curls of heat that tremble over each other in his gut, flicking out under his scales every so often to make the muscles of his sheath twitch. It used to be so much easier to do this when he didn’t know what it felt like to touch and kiss and taste. Now that he knows, and now that it’s been six seasons since he had it last, it takes far more will power than before to keep his hands to himself and not reach out to give and take one of the greatest pleasures he’s ever known.

It’s a relief when Dean finally turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. But Castiel knows he’s still naked under the towel and that once he puts on only his undershorts, there’ll be nothing but a thin layer of cloth between them. Dean doesn’t question him when Castiel forces a request into the kin-connection, hating it but needing it at the same time. He comes back into the bathroom pushing Castiel’s wheelchair and wearing loose gray pants.

Breakfast is strips of bacon and squishy but slightly crunchy and sweet pieces of bread. Dean calls it French toast and he pours the brown syrup over top of it. Castiel lets Dean have his plate to cut up the toast for him before he starts to eat. It’s easier than having to rip it apart, but his fingers still get sticky and he refrains from licking them clean. There’s still residual heat under his scales and he knows Dean was struggling with himself too during the shower.

It wasn’t as hard for him, but sometimes during shower, images had raised in the kin-connection. Brief imaginings that Dean wiped out quickly by forcefully changing what he was thinking about. Each brief image had sent another flash of heat to wash through Castiel from the floating feeling in his head to the tip of his tail.

Dean gives him a cloth to clean his hands while he cleans up from breakfast. They return to the bed for more room to stretch and lay on. For a while they read, until Dean needs to give his voice a break. He goes and gets the container full of Castiel’s treasures from the couch-room. He opens it and spills the contents over the bedding between them. Dean is sitting with his legs crossed under him and Castiel lays on his stomach as he sorts through them, his tail hanging over the edge of the bed or curling up until the folds of his end-fans and the tip of his tail can touch between his back-fans.

“Where did you get this?” Dean points at a stone, deep red and polished by countless hours of rubbing it smooth with sand.

 _(It’s made out of coral. Gabriel found it and had the artisans make it look like that.)_ Castiel gives it to him to hold. _(I won it from him in a race when we were younger.)_

He turns it over and over in his hands before he puts it down and points at another item. “Is that actually a shark tooth?”

_(From the first one I ever defended the colony from. They don’t attack us often, but when they do they are voracious. It usually happens if someone is badly wounded. You can touch them all if you’d like.)_

Dean picks up the tooth and tests the point against the pad of his finger. Next he picks up a stone that Castiel had found when he was a child. It’s flat and round, but has the imprint of what Dean calls a starfish. He also calls the rock a ‘fossil’ and explains what that is. Next he lifts a spiraled shell with a flared edge. That’s another item that he won by being the best at a training exercise.

There are other little shells and stones – some that were just an interesting colour, others that were nice shapes. He has a little story for each of them and Dean listens to each of them before he goes to his closet and pulls a box down from a high shelf. It’s full of the same things. Little pictures, bracelets and rings, charms, the silver canisters of lighters and notes that Dean doesn’t read to him and Castiel doesn’t ask him too. These are Dean’s treasures and the notes are likely very personal. If he ever wishes to share their contents, Castiel will happily listen.

They share these small memories between them until lunch. Castiel takes his in the cove, stretching his muscles and catching his food while Dean sits on the deck with his legs between the railing and he eats leftovers from last night, including the other half of Castiel’s hamburger. When he’s finished, Dean disappears inside for a few minutes. Longer than it would take to put away his dishes and clean up. Castiel touches his mind with curiosity but Dean only tells him to wait.

He floats in the shade of the house until something bright and blue goes sailing over the edge of the deck to land lightly on the water. Next a bucket tied to a rope is lowered over the edge, dropping down until it nearly touches the water. Castiel swims to it and beats his tail hard to rise up high enough out of the water to see what’s in it. The book is tucked in around a towel and a brown bottle. Heavy thudding footsteps above his head precede a loud shout and Castiel looks up in time to see Dean launch himself from the deck.

His surprise fills the kin-connection as he watches Dean tucked his knees to his chest in mid hair and crash into the water with a large splash. There’s nothing but Dean’s joy and amusement dancing into their link and he surfaces with a wide smile as he pushes the hair up off his forehead.

“Was that a ten, or was that a ten?” Dean laughs, grinning at him before turning and swimming out to the blue thing floating away.

 _(Is what a ten?)_ He breaks away from where the bucket is hanging, ducking under the surface and holding his breath as he swims.

_(The splash. Was it awesome?)_

_(It was quite impressive.)_ Castiel beats him to the floating blue thing, which he finds is a large ring made of a smooth material he’s not sure he recognizes. _(What is this for?)_

Dean only grins and dives under the ring, coming up in the center with his arms first so he can tuck one side of the ring under his arms, lifting the other side out of the water. He waggles his eyebrows a few times before leaning back and kicking his feet forward toward Castiel. “Think you could do me a favour and drag me into the shade?”

Castiel grabs one of his feet and swims backwards toward the house. Once they’re in the shade, it takes a combined effort and the use of one of the poles to get Dean’s legs up through the hole too without him capsizing so he can sit in the inner circle of the ring, his legs over one side and his arms over the opposite side. Castiel maneuvers him to the bucket and Dean dries his hand with the towel, takes a sip from the brown bottle – he calls it ‘beer’ – and pulls out the book.

Together, they float in the shade while Dean reads out loud. Castiel keeps them within reach of the bucket until Dean’s drink is finished, then they float freely under the house. He stays close to the ring by pushing the tail up the middle along Dean’s hip and curling the end over the side of it as Dean carefully arranges the adipose of his end-fans so they’re not pinched and spread nicely over the side of the ring.

It’s a nice, lazy way to spend the afternoon and Castiel likes it. He likes floating on his back, his side-fans flared to stay out of the water and listen to the sound of Dean’s voice while he reads. Dean could read silently while still translating in the kin-connection, but they both know that Castiel likes the sound of his voice and it’s something to focus on so his mind doesn’t wander.

The only time that Dean stops reading out loud is when his throat gets tired again. He leaves the book in the bucket and, with some difficultly and only capsizing the ring twice, Castiel manages to get up too. He lays on his stomach over Dean, his arms around his shoulders and his nose tucked to the curve of his when they’re not kissing. Dean likes to run his hands along Castiel’s back, over his back-fans or between them. He often stops to trace the raised edge of the scar on Castiel’s hip before starting again.

It’s during one of the kisses that Castiel gets the urge for _more_. Even though he knows that Dean’s skin will taste more like the sea than it will him, he doesn’t care. He carefully slides down a little more until he can comfortably lay kisses along Dean’s collarbone. Dean tilts his head back and his fingers dig into where the webbing of his back-fans join his skin. Approval and a lethargic sense of arousal twists loosely through the kin-connection as Castiel searches out with his mouth the perfect place along Dean’s clavicle to seal his lips against and suck.

He leaves a dark mark there, just as dark as the ones on his neck, and a few scattered red spots over his chest. They’re nothing more than light nips and washes of his tongue that make Dean twitch and spill little noises of surprise into the air cooled by the world-breath. Castiel pulls back once to regard his handiwork for a moment before he dips his head and licks wetly over one of Dean’s nipples.

Dean flips the ring in surprise, a startled “Fuck!” cut off as they go under.

 _(Why did you do that?)_ Castiel twists under him as Dean surfaces, going after the ring as it floats away.

 _(Because you surprised the shit out of me.)_ He grabs at the ring when Castiel brings it back. _(I thought you weren’t ready for stuff like that.)_

Castiel dives again, brushing against Dean’s legs and trailing his hand along the tattoos on his calves. _(I’m testing my limits to see what I might be ready for.)_

Silence lingers in the kin-connection for a moment before a nervous anticipation. _(And… are you?)_

He surfaces for a breath, his gills still sealed to his neck. Dean is watching him with sharp eyes, hope sparking along their link. Castiel looks back steady. _(I might be. We’ll find out tonight when I make my next attempt.)_

Dean tilts his head back to stare at the bottom of the house. _(You’re going to torture me the rest of the day with that, aren’t you?)_

A smile pushes its way onto his lips and Castiel drifts out of reach,  purposefully letting the kin-connection fill with his considerations. _(I might.)_

He groans and shakes the water out of his hair, muttering under his breath about how Castiel is a tease. They both know that he’s really not, but it’s amusing none the less. Castiel follows him back to the dock and what looks like a pile of towels that Dean threw from the top of the stairs. Once they’re inside, Dean uses the bathroom and changes back into his gray pants while Castiel dries off by the door. He’s bringing the wheelchair over again when Castiel points at the ceiling.

_(Can I see the rooms upstairs?)_

“Yeah, sure.” Dean abandons the chair to lift him directly from the floor. He strains a little while trying to stand from a crouch with Castiel’s tail folded over one arm and his arms around his shoulders. 

The climb up the stairs is slow and careful. Once they’re at the top, the only way to go is to the left since there is a wall at the top of the stairs with a large window that nearly reaches from floor to ceiling. There’s a low wall that separates the stairs from the hall that runs to the other end of the house and another tall window. There is one door on their right at the beginning of where the hall nearly triples in width. It’s open and Dean goes into that room first.

Castiel recognizes the sliding doors on the wall behind the door as closet doors and he doesn’t need to see in there. There are two desks, separated by a tall bookshelf, against the same wall as the door. Under the window on the opposite side of the room is a bed framed by little tables. Everything is neat and tidy and Castiel can smell Sam and Jess in this room.

 _(Do all the rooms have such big closets?)_ He tilts his head toward the wall of sliding doors as Dean turns around to leave the room.

“Kinda, yeah. I didn’t want a ton of furniture in the rooms, so there’s no dressers or anything. It’s all kind of built into the closets.” He explains as he crosses the hall to the next door. “Plus they actually don’t have that big of a place in the city and they keep a lot of spare things that they don’t need all the time here. It’s not that big a deal for them to come get something or for me to bring it in for a little visit if they need anything. A lot of their spare clothes are here and they switch out their outfits when they come over.”

_(Is that why they had so many bags?)_

Dean shrugs and nudges the door open with his foot. This room is all shades of blues and greens with brightly coloured fish and sea-giants pictured on the walls. The longest wall, under the windows, is lined with shelves that have baskets in it. They’re mostly empty, but Dean explains that’s where the toys and things will go for the babies. The closet has drawers and little hangers and these two contraptions stored in one corner that Dean calls ‘high chairs’ – for when the babies are going to need to eat while they’re here.

There are two chairs in one corner, the legs connected with long bowed pieces. Dean shows him why when he sits in one and it rocks back and forth slightly. From there, Castiel looks at the rest of the room. Two beds, much smaller than the ones that Castiel has seen before, are against the far wall from the door and are separated by one low table. There are net-walls on either side of the bed and Dean explains that those are so the babies don’t roll off and they can be pulled out to be made higher.

“We were going to get cribs for them, but since they won’t be here that often, we figured on getting something they could keep using as they grow.” Dean shrugs and struggles to his feet again, leaving this room for the next.

There are two more doors on the hall. They face each other and are half way down the hall from where it narrows. “Which do you want to try next?”

 _(That one.)_ Castiel points to the door on the left, the same side of the hall as the room for the babies.

That room turns out to be the storage room. There are two closets in this room and the door to the room is recessed between them. These ones don’t have any sliding doors to them. They’re open to the room and full of shelves, boxes and baskets. There are other boxes stacked against the wall, but the room is mostly clean and there is another beg against one wall.

“This kind of doubles as a spare bedroom, incase Sam and Jess want to sleep in separate beds or if they bring Bobby to visit them. He stayed out here to help build this place and he promised he’d be back at least once a year. Now that you’re here, he might even bring Ellen and Jo.”

_(They stayed in touch?)_

Dean grins at him, amusement folding into the kin-connection. “More than that. I hear there might be wedding bells in the future for them.”

Castiel isn’t surprised. When he’d last seen them, everyone had hinted that Bobby liked Ellen. He may not be surprised, but he is certainly happy for them.

“Speaking of, we should probably give them a call later. Maybe after supper. Right now it’s still a little early in the morning for them and Bobby is usually busy in the morning.”

 _(But it’s the afternoon. How would it be the morning for them?)_ That doesn’t make any sense to him.

They take a break from the tour, stretching out side by side on the spare bed while Dean explains to him about the sun and the moon, night and day, and how the rotation and shape of the planet makes the time different on opposite sides of the world. Castiel finds it fascinating. He listens to it with rapt attention while Dean absently runs a hand through his hair and behind his side-fans, staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember all the information for Castiel’s questions.

For a while they lay in silence, Castiel’s head on Dean’s chest as he listens to his heart beat and lets all this new information sink in. Dean only moves when his phone goes off in the bedroom downstairs and he has to run to answer it. Through the kin-connection Castiel learns that it’s Jo on the phone and she isn’t happy with Dean.

He comes back into the room with the phone and pushes a button, immediately dropping it on the bed. Castiel flinches from it when Jo’s voice comes out loud and upset. “- _years_ looking for him and you’ve had him for _five days_ and you never called us? Did the heat over there make you stupid or something? I swear to God I’m going to –” A voice speaks in the background and Jo cuts off to speak to them. “No, mom, I’m not going to _calm_ _down_. – Dean, we want _details._ How is he? How are you? Is everything –”

Castiel leans closer to the phone. “Hello Jo.”

The line goes silent and appreciation fills the kin-connection as Dean sits on the bed again. He presses a kiss to Castiel’s temple before laying down again. Castiel relocates the phone to Dean’s chest as he lays down too. They can hear muffled noises and Dean explains that Jo probably has her hand over the part that she speaks into.

It’s only another minute or two before Jo speaks again. Her voice sounds distant and there are other noises in the background, but this time there are two other voices too. Dean explains that they’re using speaker phone so everyone can hear and talk – just he is. The conversation is short because Dean says the call is expensive. It’s doesn’t go beyond simple greetings and ‘how are you’ and Dean makes promises to call again later in the day.

Relief floods his thoughts the moment the phone is turned off and Castiel prods at the feeling with his curiosity. Dean shrugs and rolls onto his side to face him. “Jess left a message for them when she and Sam got home this morning. Now Jo’s pissed because I didn’t call her the moment I found you and it’s not like I _meant_ to not call her.”

 _(Why didn’t you?)_ Castiel presses closer, folding his tail over Dean’s legs.

“I forgot. You’re really distracting, y’know that?”

 _(I’ve been told.)_ He smiles and leans in for a quick kiss. _(Can we finish the tour and go back to reading?)_

Dean’s hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him back in for another kiss, longer and deeper. _(In a minute. I think we can stand to rest a little longer still.)_

Castiel breaks away with a gentle nip to Dean’s bottom lip. _(Later. After you show me the workshop, we read, have supper, and talk to the others again.)_

He groans and turns his face into the pillow. _(But that’s so far away. Why can’t we just make out for a bit right now and then do all that stuff?)_

Because he’s not sure if he’ll be able to control himself. Since their shower this morning, some small part of Castiel’s mind has been thinking about it. Thinking about touching Dean again like he used to, thinking about doing everything that made Dean make the sounds he’d heard muffled through the bathroom door the other night, thinking about everything. He’s not sure if he’s ready, but he at least wants to _try_. Dean deserves at least that much from him.

When Castiel doesn’t answer, Dean props himself up on his elbow. “I’m not pressuring you or anything, I swear. I can wait til tonight – longer even. I’m just –”

 _(I know, Dean.)_ He squeezes his tail over Dean’s legs and presses a reassuring touch against the edges of his mind through the kin-connection. _(It’s okay.)_

Dean relaxes marginally and nods. “As long as you remember that. I can – I _will_ – wait for as long as it takes for you.”

 _(Thank you.)_ Castiel gives him another lingering, closed mouth kiss.

He can feel Dean’s reluctance to leave the bed, even though it isn’t their bed, as he gets up and tucks the phone away into a pocket on his pants. Castiel stretches once before Dean lifts him the same as he was carried before.

The workshop doesn’t have a closet, but it does have nearly two whole walls of shelves full of boxes. Some boxes are nearly overflowing with things Castiel can’t recognize, but it looks like pieces of metal, while others have lids. Each one has a white square on the front with writing on it. There are tables against the walls under the windows and they’re covered in different projects and items Dean calls his ‘tools’. There are sheets of metal leaning up against the shelves next to several long planks of a brown material Castiel doesn’t know the name of.

“Wood. It’s made from trees, y’know, plants.” Dean backs out of the room slowly, despite Castiel’s attempts to still see everything in the room. “I’m going to use those when I try and make something to help you out of the cove and into the house.”

Dean tries explaining how he’s going to do that and Castiel tries to understand. There’s a lot about machines and things called cranks and pulleys and it all involves the use of belts, cords or rope. He doesn’t keep up very well with everything Dean describes, but the kin-connection lights up with Dean’s enthusiasm over the project. He truly loves building things and Castiel is content just to listen to Dean enjoy talking about the things that make him happy.

He leaves Castiel in their bed while he gets the book from the bucket they left hanging in the cove. They read until Dean’s stomach rumbles. Castiel sits on the counter and helps as much as Dean will allow with the cooking. He gets to cut up two slabs of chicken into manageable  pieces that Dean throws onto a heated pan. It starts to sizzle and Castiel tries to continue with his assigned tasks while watching Dean mix together more things than he can name before he pours it over the chicken and covers it all with a lid. In a pot at the back of the stove, there is boiling water filled with handfuls of little shells that Dean says will be a lot like spaghetti.

They forgo the wheelchair for this meal and Castiel sits on a regular chair next to Dean. He serves the shells on plates, spooning pasta and chicken over top of the shells. The sauce reminds Castiel of the soup Lilith used to serve him, but it’s better in all aspects. The shells, however, keep slipping through his fingers and he accepts the spoon Dean offers.

Right after dinner, they call Bobby, Ellen and Jo with the laptop. Their supper was late, so Dean says it’s just after midday where they are. They sit in front of Dean’s desk, Dean in his chair and Castiel in the wheelchair. While they wait for the call to pick up, Dean shows him how to turn on the laptop and get to the program necessary to make the calls. It’s still difficult for Castiel to understand, but Dean promises to let him practice at another time.

When the call finally starts and the screen fills with their faces, Castiel finds it very disorienting. He still has trouble accepting that humans use phones to send their voices over long distances – but sending their _faces_ is an entirely different matter. It’s almost like the moving pictures of the movies that he and Dean had watched, only he can interact with them as if they were here in the room too.

Everyone is technically supposed to be working when they make the call, but Bobby assures them that they’re all on their lunch break and can take for at least a little while. Almost all of Castiel’s questions and answers have to go through Dean. He can answer the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions easily enough, but the ones that require explanation are beyond him for answering in Dean’s language.

He learns that Bobby and Ellen run two businesses together – one that involves something to do with cars and the other with food – and that Jo works for them at both locations. Jo is attending school and dating a boy she met in her classes while Bobby and Ellen are now living together at Bobby’s home. They’re all very happy to see him and please to hear that he and Dean are working things out.

Before they leave, Dean explains briefly about what Castiel has been up to in the last three years. He promises to email them with more details and the full story about how they found each other again later. The goodbyes don’t last any longer than the hello’s did – Bobby even leaves the moving pictures on the laptop before everyone is finished with their farewells.

 _(That wasn’t so bad.)_ Castiel sits back in his chair when Dean closes the laptop. _(It was nice to get to see them again.)_

Dean smiles fondly at the laptop and then at him.“Yeah, it was.”

_(You miss them?)_

He shrugs and leans back, stretching his legs out under the desk. “Not really. I mean, I miss seeing them every other day like I would if I lived there. But I talk to them pretty often, so it’s not that bad. Besides, I knew what I was getting into when I decided to move out here.”

After his stretch, Dean gets up and pushes the wheelchair into the bathroom. They prepare for bed slowly, Castiel taking the time to spray himself down in the tub while Dean goes around the house to turn off the lights and lock the doors. He doesn’t expect anyone to try to break into the house out here, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. They brush their teeth together in silence, the only thing in the kin-connection is the warmth Dean never hides and the warmth Castiel still filters, along with several nervous curls of eagerness.

Dean is excited for whatever Castiel might give him tonight and Castiel isn’t sure what he’s feeling. He’s just as eager for what might come too, but he’s also nervous. His chest feels like it’s too full of air, light and floating and when he swallows it feels like there’s a knot at the base of his throat. Castiel isn’t sure what he’s going to do or what he’s even ready for. All that he knows is that he _wants_ and there are so many different kinds of it. He wants to give Dean more, he wants to hear, taste, touch, smell, feel – he wants it all and he’s terrified that he might not be ready for it again and he might ruin something by doing this. And he doesn’t even know _what_ he might destroy.

The small trek from the bathroom to the bedroom feels longer than it ever did and Castiel can’t help fidgeting with his adipose-fin. He pinches and rolls it even after he’s moved from the chair to the bed, watching as Dean sets the alarm and turns off the light. Castiel’s glow is bright enough for Dean to find his way back to the bed easily and they slide under the blankets together, facing each other. It’s not that late into the evening and neither of them actually feels all that tired.

It takes a few minutes for Castiel to steel himself and close the distance between them. Dean doesn’t move, waiting to see what Castiel will do. He sighs into the gentle kiss and leans into the hand Castiel slides over his hip, pulling him closer as his tail tangles with Dean’s legs. It doesn’t take more than that to completely obliterate nearly all of Castiel’s doubts. The _want_ courses hot and thick through the kin-connection, mirroring the course it takes through his veins.

Castiel isn’t sure of _what_ he’s going to do tonight, but he knows that he will be able to do it.


	47. Firsts Repeated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He reaches for something, anything, to hold on to. One hand curls tightly in the sheets and Dean doesn’t reprimand him when they tear under his claws. The other finds one of Dean’s hands and he fits his fingertips to the spaces between his, aligning their hands until Dean’s fingers press against the edges of his webbing. Dean folds them over Castiel’s webbing, holding on as best as they’re able. He wishes he didn’t have the webbing between his fingers so he could hold Dean’s hand like he’s seen Jess and Sam hold each other’s, palms together and fingers linked tightly.
> 
> Dean brushes the thought aside easily. _(I want you for you, Cas. Fishy-bits and all.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people: fawkester  
> i-think-we-should-get-a-cat, jadelightbulb, thecrystalmadness, thelittlearchangelthatcould, hydraarill, displaced-angel, tangledface, sparkyvanarky, and necroneko13
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

Dean doesn’t properly touch him until Castiel moves his hands for him, guiding them to his hips and sides as he takes a place above him. His elbows rest above Dean’s shoulders and his fingers find their way into his hair. He wraps the kin-connection tightly with his consent, his joy, and the strained warmth that keeps getting harder and harder to hold back. It’s so difficult to not give Dean his all again.

Mother-sea help him, he wants to but there’s still a fear twisting around his heart that Dean might not mean it. There’s still the chance that Dean will leave and Castiel can’t take having him again only to lose him once more.

That fear dictates his limit for tonight. He can’t give Dean everything, not yet. But he can give him more than this - more than just kisses and gentle nips to his lips, his chin, and his jaw. Castiel can do so much more with just his mouth and hands and body. The pleased sound that Dean makes when Castiel rolls his hips and rubs his sheath against the growing hardness in Dean’s shorts sends a bolt of heat shivering along his spine.

The kisses are normal. Castiel is used to these and has spent the last few days adjusting to them again. It’s dipping lower and following the line of Dean’s throat to the hollow of his collarbone that leads to more than he’s done in years. He shifts down Dean’s body slowly, hands moving to trace over his shoulders and sides. His thumbs brush against Dean’s nipples, eliciting a quickly stifled sound as Castiel kisses down the center of his chest, following the sloping lines to his stomach.

He finds where Dean’s stomach is softest around his belly button and he nips at it lightly. Dean laughs, hips squirming under Castiel’s chest as he places a circle of kisses and gentle bites around the pit of his stomach. Another choked noise gets muffled behind Dean’s lips when Castiel slides his tongue into the dip that no fin-kin has. Dean twitches and his fingers dig into his hair when Castiel chooses to place another hickey just below his belly button, sucking another dark mark into his skin and having to hold Dean’s hips down as he does it.

When Castiel reaches the edge of Dean’s boxers, he moves back up his body. This time he veers to the sides to pay light attention to each of Dean’s nipples before he kisses him again. He presses encouragement into the kin-connection when Dean silently asks to continue with the slide of his hands down his back. Dean finds the swell of his tail and holds Castiel down as he arches his back to rub against him. The friction against his sheath burns into his belly and the muscles are twitching harder than they should with how little they’ve done so far.

Dean doesn’t stop to ask how far Castiel is willing to go because he doesn’t push or try to take. He leaves it entirely up to Castiel to guide them through this and it makes the warmth in his chest swell, building upon the appreciation he has that Dean is willing to give him this – give him the time that he needs.

Castiel isn’t expecting to feel the muscles tighten of his sheath tighten and he gasps against Dean’s mouth when the cloth of the undershorts and the heated skin of Dean’s belly rubs under his penis. At least the undershorts don’t hurt like it did once to rub against the jeans Dean is fond of wearing. He would prefer to move against Dean without the barrier of his clothing between them, but neither of them reaches to push them out of the way. Dean does pulse a mild concern into the kin-connection when Castiel pulls himself up higher so he’s thrusting against Dean’s stomach instead of the short.

All he can answer with is a shake of his head. _(This – just this. Please – Dean –)_

“It’s okay. Whatever you want, Cas.” Dean murmurs, a smile ghosting the edges of his kisses. His hand finds the back of Castiel’s neck, fingers gently stroking the mark that Castiel knows is already starting to fade. Bruises never last long on his skin and he makes a note – somewhere in the back of his mind – to have Dean renew it before he leaves.

They rock together, Dean’s heels digging into the bed and Castiel’s tail wound tightly around his legs. It’s been so long since he did anything like this, even on his own, that Castiel doesn’t last nearly as long as he once did. It’s barely a handful of minutes before he buries his face against Dean’s neck and a moan shudders out his throat, the buzzing white filling his brain and drowning out the kin-connection. Dean takes longer and Castiel is more than willing to lazily move his hips against him even after his penis has receded into his sheath, leaving a sticky white mess on their stomachs.

When Dean does finally reach his own threshold, Castiel watches with rapt attention. He’s propped up on his elbows and he breaks from the kiss as Dean tilts his head back, body going taut beneath him, fingers digging almost painfully into his hips. Dean relaxes with a heavy sigh, satisfaction burning brightly through the kin-connection. Castiel dips his head to press more kisses to Dean’s lips until the weariness of sleep creeps up on them, accompanied by the need to clean up before either one of them falls asleep.

Castiel brightens his glow enough for Dean to see by while he changes his undershorts quickly and gets a damp cloth from the bathroom. He rolls over and stretches so Dean can wipe his stomach down for him, already having cleaned his own on his way back to the bedroom. The moment Dean is back in the bed, Castiel curls against him, covering as much of him as he can as the blanket gets pulled to his shoulders.

He’s nearly asleep when Dean’s soft words brush over his forehead. “How was that?”

 _(It was good.)_ He rubs his cheek against Dean’s shoulder and tilts his head to brush his nose along his jaw. _(I think I might have been able to do more than that.)_

Amusement twists thick around the warmth pooling in the kin-connection and he can feel Dean’s smile against his skin. “Oh, really?”

 _(Later.)_ He presses a kiss to whatever part of him lays under his mouth. _(I’m tired now.)_

 _(Nice to know some things didn’t change. You used to get tired right after that before too.)_ Dean hums quietly, a small tune that Castiel recognizes even after so many seasons have passed. The words to the song never filter into the kin-connection, but the tune lulls Castiel to sleep quickly. He’ll have to remember to sing Dean a lullaby later, after they’ve sprayed his scales.

It always feels like the alarm rings too soon after he falls asleep, even though Castiel knows that it’s been more than a few hours. This time feels different than the rest. Right now, as he pulls away from Dean to smack the top of the clock until it shuts off, he feels awake almost immediately. He stretches and taps the end of his tail against Dean’s leg where it’s curled around it. His answer is a groan and Dean pulls a pillow over his head, grumbling nonsense into it.

Castiel leans over him to press light kisses along Dean’s shoulder until he drags himself up for a proper kiss. While Dean takes care of his back-fans, fingers sweeping in gentle strokes to rub the water into his webbing, Castiel deals with his side-fans and the front of his tail. He rolls over and stretches it out behind him when Dean sprays down the back of it, taking care to make sure that his adipose-fins are pliable and loose. It’s while Dean is checking the bend and flex of his end-fans that Castiel realizes something that has his ribs immediately tightening around his lungs.

When they wake up properly in the morning, it will be his last full day with Dean before he has to return to the colony. Tomorrow he’ll have to leave – by lunch at the very latest if he wants to be back to the colony before the day is ended. And he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to return. All Castiel knows is that he _will_ return no matter what decision the council makes.

This realization is the inspiring force behind why he makes a place for himself between Dean’s legs the moment they’re back on the bed together. Dean’s surprise echoes through the kin-connection, followed with a sharp confusion at the needy kisses and slide of Castiel’s hands. He’s been so open and honest with Castiel over this last week, sharing everything he asks and hiding nothing from him, that Castiel returns the trust now and bares the worry and the want to the kin-connection.

For a moment, one heart-stopping moment, Dean goes still. He never liked it when Castiel tried to use the pleasure of their bodies to distract himself from things he didn’t want to think about. Dean has never liked when he’s desperate to have everything before he can’t anymore. But this is different. This isn’t just Castiel trying to forget and have everything now. He just wants _more_.

It takes longer for the roll and rub of their bodies, and the slick, messy kisses to bring either of them to full arousal. But it does happen and the moment Castiel feels the muscles of his sheath tighten, he shifts his weight to one arm, mindlessly shoving at the shorts to get them out of the way. They’re too rough on such a sensitive part of him and Dean wastes no time in squirming to remove them – though they can go no lower than his thighs and Castiel can feel them stretched tight across the scales under his sheath. It poses no problem at the moment.

They experiment with lining their hips up just right and finding a decent rhythm. The gathering sweat and the precome beading on the head of Dean’s penis does little to ease the slide of their bodies and Dean curses at the frustration building in the kin-connection from the both of them. He breaks away from their kisses long enough to fumble at the table beside that bed, opening a drawer that Castiel hadn’t noticed before.

The lube Dean gets is greatly welcomed and Castiel shows his appreciation with sucking kisses placed along Dean’s neck. He curls his tail closer to get the leverage to lift his body and give Dean the room he needs to coat them both. Dean hesitates before he touches Castiel’s penis, a curious tickle lining the edges of the kin-connection. He’s asking to touch and Castiel presses his face to Dean’s shoulder, nodding slightly and granting his permission with a burst of acquiescence.

A hiss escapes him at the first brush of Dean’s fingers and Castiel can’t stop his hips from twitching into the touch. Dean’s hand doesn’t properly leave him, and a whine pulls through Castiel’s throat as Dean holds them together. Every push of his hips rubs his penis along Dean’s in the tight tunnel of his fist and even though it feels good, it doesn’t feel like enough. He wants to touch too, he wants to touch and taste and feel Dean in all ways but there’s something deep inside him that keeps saying ‘ _no’_.

“You could do this.” Dean murmurs against his side-fan, tongue darting out to lick lightly at the spines and webbing as his thumb rubs against the head of Castiel’s penis. “As long as you’re careful with those claws by the goods, you could touch too if you want.”

Castiel shakes his head and keeps his nose tucked to the hinge of Dean’s jaw. He’s definitely going to need to cut or blunt his claws somehow after this. Breaking this physical barrier and letting himself have Dean like this again is – there is no way they won’t be doing this again and _soon_. They have three years to make up for and Castiel hasn’t touched himself nearly as much as he’s certain that Dean has. He can count on one hand the number of times he went to find a place in the boulder fields to relieve himself and none of those times felt as good as it does now.

His arms are already starting to feel tired from trying to hold himself up, but he can’t lay fully on top of Dean without awkwardly pinning his hand between their bellies. The frustration builds in the kin-connection again and his movements become rough and less controlled as he tries to remain on his elbows. Dean starts offering suggestions of different ways they could continue this, such as both of them turning onto their sides or he could sit over Castiel’s lap. They’re all perfectly viable positions, but Castiel can’t make up his mind and he doesn’t like the idea of not having Dean pinned to the bed where he won’t be able to _leave_.

Dean’s other hand finds its way into his hair, fingers twisting and curling in a soothing rub-scratch that eases the panic building in his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Cas. I’m staying right here with you.”

Another whine sounds low in his throat and Castiel thrusts sharply into his hand – seeking what only Dean has ever given him before. It takes several minutes and many more reassurances before Castiel’s arms give out and he slides to the side, continuing onto his back as Dean takes up straddling his hips. He keeps his tail twisted around one of Dean’s legs as they roll and the chance is taken to free his other leg from the undershorts.

Without it hindering his movements, Dean is able to rock more freely against Castiel as he leans over him, supported on one arm while he kisses him soundly. Castiel fixes his arms tightly over Dean’s shoulders and he doesn’t let go until that deafening white sound fills his head again. Dean is moments after him, gasping a quiet string of Castiel’s name against his mouth as he strokes them until they’re both fully spent.

After a quick clean up consisting of using what water remains in the spray bottle and Dean’s shorts to wipe them down, Dean returns to the bed without putting on another pair of undershorts – his excuse being that he doesn’t want to dirty another pair in the morning. Castiel doesn’t mind and he fits his chest to Dean’s back, placing a lazy trail of light kisses along his neck and nosing the soft hair behind his ear. He hums the lullaby he once sang to Dean before and listens to his breathing even out until he falls asleep too, warmed by the heat of Dean’s body and the sleepy warmth that fills the kin-connection.

In the morning, Dean is the first to wake and Castiel opens his eyes to a teasing grin. Bright-pearl hasn’t fully risen over the walls of the cove yet and Dean wants to swim. Any drowsiness that remained dissipates before they even get to the water. Castiel stretches his muscles and builds an appetite by chasing Dean across the cove. He is probably considered a fast swimmer by human standards, but Castiel hasn’t seen other humans swim – not since Jess and Sam by the edges of the light-beds – and compared to a fin-kin he is slow and awkward. Even so, it’s fun and exhilarating.

Castiel will never tire of having Dean in the water with him.

He takes his breakfast under the waves, catching fish and snails and hunting for anything that he might be able to give to Dean for his dinner tonight. While Dean eats his breakfast inside and takes a hot shower at Castiel’s insistence, he leaves the cove to expand upon what he can find. Castiel doesn’t go beyond the boundaries of the kin-connection, refusing to give it up for even a moment sooner than he’ll absolutely have to. Even with that limitation, he still manages to find a few of the long-crabs that are considered a treat among the colony. The moment he shares the images, Dean’s enthusiasm for dinner nearly triples and he tells Castiel that humans call them ‘lobsters’.

Castiel uses kelp to bind the claws of the lobsters, careful not to let them pinch him. He brings them back, pushing them ahead of him while he crawls and wiggles his way through the little tunnel and back into the shelter of the cove. Dean has a bucket ready for the lobsters and he takes that inside before returning to help carry him up the stairs.

They’re nearly done the book and this time Castiel wants to finish it while the story is still fresh and new. He doesn’t want to return to the colony with it left undone again. As he gets settled on the couch, leaving a space for Dean to sit, Dean takes out a big black discs from one of the boxes under the shelves against the wall, and puts it on the record player. The music plays quietly in the background while Dean reads, Castiel’s cheek pillowed on his chest.

He listens to Dean’s words and the translation in the kin-connection while he thinks. Castiel knows that after this, after burning himself from the outside with the heat of Dean’s skin and from the inside with the warmth of his heart, the deeps will be nearly unbearably cold. They were the last time that Dean left and he fully expects them to be the same tomorrow.

There isn’t much left to the book when they break for lunch. As the leftovers from their last few meals heats, they take a moment to respectively use the bathroom – Castiel to soak his scales and Dean to relieve himself. The majority of the meal is taken in a comfortable silence until Castiel asks a question that has been nagging at the back of his mind the closer that they get to the end of the book.

_(Can we read another book after it?)_

Dean looks up from stabbing the stray shell-pasta scattered across his plate with the fork. “Before you go back? I don’t think we’ll have enough time for that.”

 _(When I come back. I’d like to read another book.)_ Castiel tilts his head, amused by the grin that spreads over Dean’s lips whenever he speaks of returning.

“Sure. There’s more in the living room to pick from.”

There is no hesitation with his next words. _(Yours. I want to read the one you wrote.)_ It’s their story. Castiel doesn’t know if it’s written from Dean’s side and how he felt, or if it’s written a different way. He knows that there are several ways a story can be told, but he doesn’t know how Dean told theirs and it intrigues him.

Dean’s grin only gets bigger as the kin-connection takes a teasing lilt to it. “No, I don’t think so. You’ll have to read that one on your own.”

Castiel frowns and leans forward over his plate. _(But I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to learn to read your language. I’ve never had to read anything before and I don’t remember all of what you taught be before. A directional or boundary marker isn’t the same as the symbols you write with. I don’t want to wait that long to read it.)_

“It’d be better if you read it yourself.” Dean looks away, picking at his food as something that feels like insecurity creeps into the kin-connection. “It’s not something I can really read to you.”

 _(But if it’s_ our _story –)_

“Please, Cas.” He cuts him off and looks up. There’s honesty in his eyes, and a plea in the kin-connection that begs for Castiel to listen. “Just – I _can’t_ read it to you. That’s something that I want you to read on your own. It’s – I really can’t.”

Castiel sits back heavily in his wheel chair, rocking it slightly. He forces his expression to remain neutral when he feels a pout attempt to make its way to his lips. Instead, he focuses on the kin-connection and Dean’s mind. It would be rude to abuse their link to find the information about the book itself, but he wants to know _why_ Dean can’t do it. Why is it so important to him that Castiel has to read it on his own?

He doesn’t have far to look. Dean turns the information over to him the moment his touch ghosts over the edges of his mind. It’s startling, but it reinforces what Dean has been trying to prove all along. He has nothing to hide from Castiel and he’s rewarded with a bright pulse of warmth and the lowering of the walls around that feeling.

Those walls are very nearly gone – thinned to the point that they’re practically useless. Castiel wasn’t even aware that the walls were steadily deteriorating, and he really doesn’t mind the state they’re in. Dean has done so much to prove himself and despite not wanting to use his feelings for Dean as a reward, each new piece of proof or reinforcement is a blow to that wall. Each new wave of warmth that he gets brings a wide smile to Dean’s face and Castiel loves his smile. If giving him more of the warmth is what he needs to do to see it, then he’ll do it.

There is only one reason why Dean doesn’t want to be the one to read the book to him. Dean’s book was written by him, but the name it was written under is different than his own. In it, even though Dean hides behind the anonymity of a fictional character, he is laid bare. As if the book were the kin-connection, everything Dean thought and felt and everything he could remember from the brief time that they knew each other is in those pages.

Despite actually having had the kin-connection together during that time, Dean had been extremely closed off. Castiel didn’t know then as much of his thoughts or feelings as he does now. Even when nothing is actively flowing between them like it does when they talk, all it takes is a little focus and Castiel would be able to see or feel anything that he wanted. The book would be an insight into Dean during a time period when they didn’t have this freedom in the kin-connection. It’s –

It’s something Castiel wants to read _right now_. He knows that he wasn’t as open with Dean back then either, and he’s certainly not as open now as Dean is. But now that he knows that it’s available to him, he wants it as soon as he can have it. And even with the kin-connection, it’s going to take a long time to learn their language enough to be able to read and understand it.

_(If I’m going to find out what you thought and felt back then anyways, why does it matter if you’re the one who reads it to me or not?)_

“Because it’s embarrassing.” Dean says flatly, reaching across the table to take his plate away. “I’ve never really addressed emotions and shit like I have since I met you and it’s still hard for me to change that.” The plates clatter loudly when he dumps them in the sink. “I knew you a month, Cas. That’s not enough time for me to be completely used to having someone in my head. I had a couple decades of being alone in here and I like being connected with you – I missed it and I missed you – but that doesn’t mean that I’m used to sharing _everything_.”

A worried frown creases his forehead and he watches the muscles of Dean’s back move while he cleans the dishes. _(You’re not comfortable being this open with me?)_

“I didn’t say that.” Frustration rises I the kin-connection and Dean’s shoulders hunch. “I’m just not used to it. It’s – it’s still _new_ for me.” He turns around and fixes Castiel with a firm stare. “And I told you that I’d do whatever it takes to make you understand that I’m staying here and that I want to be with you. Even if that means opening my goddamn brain to you, then I’m going to do it. Hell, if it’ll take you freakin’ biting me again, you can do that too because you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Dean walks around the table as he talks and Castiel is already reaching for him before he’s close enough to roll the chair out and turn it around. A _need_ pulses hard in his chest – the need to touch Dean, to taste him, to feel his heat and the warmth. It beats like his heart and sears through his veins whenever Dean talks like this. It’s something he can’t help and Dean’s words are something he wants to believe so badly that it hurts.

The kisses are as desperate as the steps to the bedroom are fumbling. Dean stops several times on the way down the hall to lean back against the wall or to press Castiel against it. His hands stay firmly under the swell of Castiel’s tail and the only time they stop kissing is to breathe, hard and heavy against each other’s mouths. They don’t stop even when the sharp tang of metal lines the kisses as someone’s lips or tongue gets cut by Castiel’s teeth.

He uses his tail around Dean’s waist to try and push the undershorts off the moment Dean stumbles through the bedroom door. Dean strains to lift him high enough that he can get an arm under him. Castiel automatically tries to shift his weight to put some of it on Dean’s shoulders while lifting himself with his tail. By the time Dean trips over the undershorts as they fall around his ankles, they’re already close enough to the bed that it doesn’t matter.

It’s not easy or graceful as they tumble to the bed. Castiel hisses as his adipose-fins get pinched under Dean’s leg and Dean grunts when Castiel’s hip digs into his stomach. As soon as they manage to untangle and right themselves, Dean crawls across the bed to the drawer for the condoms and the lube while Castiel pushes the blanket and the pillows around just right. He knows his limits right now and he shares them freely in the kin-connection, letting Dean know exactly what he wants to do. Dean is more than willing and he settles on his back in the nest of pillows, his erection already laying heavy against his stomach.

Castiel spends time finding all the places along Dean’s legs and his chest that he once knew. All the places that make his breath quicken and his hips twitch, the places that cause his fingers to twist in the sheets and make him hiss Castiel’s name in warning or in plea. By the time Castiel is finished cataloging all those spots again, his own erection has long since slid free of his sheath.

They lose an untold length of time to kissing again, their hips rolling lazily against one another. A light worry flutters through the kin-connection whenever Castiel’s hands stray down Dean’s sides or stomach, intent on touching where he hasn’t yet. Dean’s concern is focused on Castiel’s claws and it’s frustrating. He knows how to touch his own penis without hurting himself and even though he has Dean’s trust, there’s still a nervous tinge in the kin-connection that annoys him enough to pull away from the kisses and use his mouth instead.

Dean fumbles to get a condom on when he realizes Castiel’s intent. He makes himself comfortable, curled lower between Dean’s legs and glaring until the condom is in place. Castiel’s hate for the fake-skin hasn’t changed and he’ll do whatever tests Dean wants him to if it means that they can stop using them completely.

He starts with teasing kisses around where he knows Dean really wants his mouth. It is, perhaps, a form of punishment for using the condom and not being able to use his hands like he really wants to. After this, they will definitely be doing something about his claws. For now, he settles with tracing Dean’s erection with his tongue and focuses on trying to twist and curl it like Dean’s encouragements in the kin-connection as he moves his mouth over and around him, careful of his teeth.

The first groan he manages to pull from him is as surprising as it is pleasing to hear. Castiel’s back-fans snap wide, a possessive glee filling his chest because _he’s_ the one who drew that noise from Dean. He redoubles his efforts, seeking more of every new sound and reprimanding Dean with the press of claws into his skin and sharp disapproval through the kin-connection whenever he muffles them with an arm over his face or by biting his bottom lip.

Castiel only does one thing that Dean isn’t expecting. When he dips his head and presses his tongue to the stretch of skin under his balls, it gets him nearly the same reaction as using his fingers used to – even if Castiel doesn’t think that he can press and rub at the spot as easily with his tongue as he could if he was using his fingers.

He does contemplate, for a moment, about moving his head lower and using his tongue on the ring of muscles that he _really_ wants to touch too – to open with his fingers and find that different spot inside that makes Dean’s back bow from the bed. That always draws a whole song of sounds from him and they’re Castiel’s favourite noises to hear. But he hasn’t asked if Dean is okay with that and now isn’t the time for questions – those can be for later, when he can use his hands again and is allowed to move them from where they hold Dean’s thighs apart.

Even though his jaw and throat get tired long before then, Castiel doesn’t stop until Dean’s fingers sink into his hair and hold him still. The drawn out moan, muffled by how Dean bites his bottom lip, sounds a lot like his name and Castiel can’t help his smug smile once he sits back. He enjoys seeing Dean like this, limbs loose and limp across the bed while he catches his breath, skin shiny with sweat. Castiel likes the lazy, pleased smile that Dean gives him as he reaches to pull him back down for slow kisses.

They change places slowly, Dean’s hands guiding his back-fans to fold flat while he rolls them until Castiel is laying in the spot warmed by Dean’s body. He can’t keep his tail from twisting and curling around Dean’s hips or sliding along his legs while Dean busies himself with removing his condom and placing a new one on Castiel. The feel of the fake-skin fitting over him makes Castiel’s upper lip curl and he forces himself not to squirm. It’s easily forgotten when Dean straddles his tail, taking the extra time to trace all the dotted and swirled lines of his glow pattern.

“Damn.” He murmurs, thumb running over the ridged line of bumps that run from Castiel’s frenulum to the folds of pink muscle around the very edge of his slit. “I wish it was dark enough to see you glow. Remind me to install curtains in here soon.”

Castiel hums quietly under his breath in agreement. If Dean were a fin-kin, he would know that the brightness of his natural glow is a sign of his virility. Even if Dean already knows that his glow is bright, Castiel still wants to prove that he is a capable mate. He wants to sing his loudest and clearest, spread his fans and fins as wide as they’ll go, and swim with Dean. He wants to press him against the nearest surface, fix his legs around his hips and rock into his body like he’s only ever done with him.

But there’s still that one last thread of fear twisted around his heart. What if he gives Dean that part of him again and he’s not here when he comes back? It’s a fear he’s finding has no basis – not against all the proof that Dean continues to give him, but it’s still there and he thinks it might stay there until he returns from the colony to find that this was real.

That’s what he wants.

He wants to know that this isn’t a dream, that this isn’t temporary. Dean came back to him – he came back _for_ him – and he’s here to stay. Castiel craves that confirmation and the warmth in the kin-connection that Dean uses to soothe the frayed edges of those thoughts, hands sliding over Castiel’s sides and the pools of blue that mark his glow.

He follows his hands with kisses, tongue pressing flat over Castiel’s nipples and teeth scraping lightly as he uses each touch to distract him from those thoughts. No matter how many reassurances he feeds into the kin-connection, they both know that it’s only time that will be able to fix the last wound that still remains in Castiel’s heart.

The distractions Dean gives him work wonderfully and Castiel curves his back to push up into the touch of his hands and lips. When Dean finally does move his tongue to Castiel’s erection, it’s mesmerizing. He can’t look away as Dean repeats every touch of his fingers with the tip of his tongue. When he finally closes his lips over the head of Castiel’s penis and slides down, taking as much as he can – that’s the only time Castiel can’t watch.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to. But the damp heat around him is like a direct line to his nerves. It makes his body do things he didn’t give it permission to. His adipose-fins ripple wildly and the end of his tail whips back and forth behind Dean, sweeping the blanket flat. His back-fans strain to flare out and it’s an ache in his shoulders that they can’t. His hips try to move, but Dean holds them down tightly as his head tilts back and a loud groan pushes its way out of his throat.

He reaches for something, anything, to hold on to. One hand curls tightly in the sheets and Dean doesn’t reprimand him when they tear under his claws. The other finds one of Dean’s hands and he fits his fingertips to the spaces between his, aligning their hands until the bases of Dean’s fingers press against the edges of his webbing. Dean folds them overtop, holding on as best as he’s able. Castiel wishes he didn’t have the webbing between his fingers so he could hold Dean’s hand like he’s seen Jess and Sam hold each other’s, palms together and fingers linked tightly.

Dean brushes the thought aside easily. _(I want you for you, Cas. Fishy-bits and all.)_

Castiel forcefully takes back control of his body and he looks down, breath catching in his throat. Dean is watching him, eyes warm and amused as he moves, lips stretched over Castiel’s erection and cheeks hollowed. He’s already pulled so thin from not having touched himself through exploring Dean’s body again or while he was the one using his mouth. Dean does something with his tongue, a twist-curl that Castiel hasn’t figured out how to do yet, and the fingers of his free hand press and rub ruthlessly at the sensitive head of his slit. It pushes Castiel over the edge and he reaches it with a strangled moan loud enough that it surprises him.

It takes several minutes for his heart to return to a normal rhythm and even then the buzzing white hasn’t completely faded from his mind. Castiel stays curled to Dean’s side, soaking in the heat of his body and the warmth that he fills the kin-connection with. Dean radiates a pleased joy as he runs his hands through Castiel’s hair and presses kisses to his forehead.

When they finally move from the bed, it’s for a bath after Dean puts another record on in the couch-room. They first test the water to find a temperature hot enough for Dean to enjoy and cool enough that Castiel isn’t uncomfortable. He sits with his back to Dean’s chest, head leaning against his shoulder and his temple pressed to Dean’s jaw. His tail curves up the side of the tub and over the edge when he stretches out and relaxes.

Castiel can’t relax like this in the deep. A part of him must always be on alert for any kind of predator. Few of the deep-fish are big enough to pose a real threat to a fin-kin, but there are ones that are dangerous enough with poisons in their spines and teeth to cause worry. It’s nice being able to sit and not have to chirp echoes into the dark where his glow doesn’t reach and being able to see everything no matter where he looks.

It’s nice to feel _safe_.

He surprises Dean when he starts to sing, turning his head so each note passes over his skin. It’s a song about hope and happiness, one that looks forward to the future and what it might bring. Castiel doesn’t bother translating what little words are in the song itself, instead filling the kin-connection with the emotions the song is supposed to inspire. Dean’s arms tighten around his chest and even after the song has ended, they stay like that until the water is too cool for Dean’s comfort.

They finish the book on the couch as a new record plays softly in the background. This time Castiel watches the words as Dean reads them and he turns the pages for him, listening to how the words are formed and what they mean. Dean reads slower this time, translating and waiting for Castiel to commit the words to memory. He wants to learn their language and he wants to learn to read as soon as possible. The sooner he knows how to read, the sooner he’ll be able to read the book that Dean wrote. And this is the best way that he knows how.

“How about for the next book, you try reading some of the parts?” Dean asks once they’re finished and the book is returned to the shelf, a new one already picked and laid aside for when he returns. “Just a line or two to start with. While you’re with the colony, I can look up strategies and teaching tips and stuff like that online and we’ll work on that first when you get back.”

Castiel chooses to watch how Dean prepares their supper instead of actually helping. He likes the way Dean’s hands move, sure and confident with everything that he does. _(I would like that, thank you.)_

Dean is wearing a pair of swim shorts again. When bright-pearl goes over the edge of the forest, and hopefully that will be by the time that they’re finished with supper, they plan to swim again. Even after getting to swim with him every day, the idea of Dean being in the water with him is still a novelty. Castiel gets excited just thinking about it and his adipose-fins ripple against the edges of the ledge by the sink where he sits.

 _(Would you be able to get another canister of air like you had before? So you could breathe underwater and stay down there with me for a while?)_ If he could show Dean the full cove floor without having to worry about bringing him to the surface to breathe, that would be nice.

He looks up from preparing the sauce for the lobsters, hands pausing as he thinks. “I could probably get a hold of one, but they’re not cheap and I’d have to get it refilled or replaced every time. I could probably rig something up with a hose if you don’t mind me trailing that.”

 _(I don’t mind, as long as you can breathe and swim with me.)_ Castiel doesn’t bother to hide from the kin-connection the joy that he gets at the idea of getting to swim with Dean for long periods of time. He smiles brightly when Dean glances at him and nearly laughs when Dean abandons his preparations for a moment to kiss him.

While they eat, Dean asks if Castiel had any issues with the way the lobsters were prepared. He withdraws his question when Castiel reminds him that the majority of what he eats is eaten while it’s still alive and squirming in his hands. It’s interesting to taste the difference between lobster when it’s eaten raw and when it’s eaten cooked. Castiel likes all the differences in flavor and how the sauces that Dean prepared change how it tastes.

 _(I could bring you clams and mussels and all sorts of things from the deep, if you’d like.)_ Castiel offers, providing images of everything he names. _(Have you tried octopus or squid? You have to take small bites or you risk the suckers getting stuck to your throat while they’re going down.)_

Dean makes a face when he talks about that and laughs when Castiel pulses confusion at him for it. “Lobster is about the extent of my exotic tastes, Cas. I’m a home grown American boy and I don’t have very fancy tastes. Give me a burger and fries over seafood any day of the week. Not that I’m knocking on you for eating it, it’s just not what I’d enjoy for every meal.”

_(American is the place that you used to live?)_

“America. Yeah. Now I technically live off the coast of South Africa. But just because I live here doesn’t mean I’m going to change how I eat.” Dean shrugs and gestures over his shoulders at the rest of the kitchen. “Sam and Jess live in a tourist city, so they sell as much American type foods and products as they can to make people who visit more comfortable. They bring me all the stuff that I can’t get in town and sometimes I’ll pick up more stuff when I go to visit them. The local cuisine ain’t bad and I’ll have it every once in a while, but I like my normal kind of food and if I can keep eating it then I don’t see why I should change that.”

 _(Understandable.)_ Castiel nods in agreement.

As nice as it is trying the foods that Dean makes and getting to taste all the different flavours, he still enjoys the things that he’s eaten all his life and he’s not going to change that either. Besides, too much of Dean’s food makes his stomach hurt and it’s hard to pass waste. But if everything goes as he hopes it will in the next few days, he’ll have a few rotations with Dean where he’ll get to try the new foods while the cove still provides him with his usual diet, and then he’ll have a rotation with the colony and eating the different prey that the deeps have compared to the areas closer to the surface.

By the time they’re finished eating, bright-pearl hasn’t fully sunk out of sight yet. They waste time starting another DVD, but it’s not as long as the movies from before. Dean says it’s called a TV Show and it’s from a series made up of several short-movies. This show takes place beyond steady-blue like the movies before, only the giant metal ships look different and it’s not the same people or the same story. Dean calls them space cowboys and he excitedly talks about the show when the first short-movie is finished, bemoaning how short the series is because of reasons Castiel doesn’t understand.

While Dean carries him outside to go swimming, he tries to explain all those reasons – going on about networks and producers and directors and everything that he knows goes into creating a TV Show. By the time he’s finished, Castiel isn’t sure if he’s any less confused than when he started, but Dean appreciates that he listens to him talk about the things that interest him and Castiel likes to listen to it. Dean’s enthusiasm and the enjoyment he has in talking about the things that he likes makes up for the lack of understanding.

This time, Dean is the one who chases Castiel through the waters. It reminds him of the time Dean was swimming with him in small-sea and it was the first time that he had ever purposefully rolled his adipose-fins and flared his fans in a way to be considered alluring. He does it now too, teasing Dean and encouraging him to swim faster and try harder to catch him. Sometimes he lets Dean’s fingers brush over his scales or catch at his fans, fins and webbing. But he twists away quickly and laughs whenever Dean curses him for it.

He leads Dean to the side of the cove farthest from the dock, almost right up to the crack in the wall before he dives out of sight and only lets him know where he is when he’s almost back at the dock.

 _(What are you up to?)_ Dean flicks his curiosity across the kin-connection as he turns to follow.

 _(Catch me and find out.)_ Castiel teases, reaching the dock and already starting to pull himself out by the railings on the one side.

Dean reaches him quickly and climbs up onto the dock before Castiel has even started to drip dry. He kneels over Castiel’s tail, sitting heavily in his lap. Castiel grins up at him, fingers slipping on his sea-slick skin until he can pull Dean down into a proper kiss, unlike the ones he teased him with their entire time in the cove, darting past to press one to his shoulders or the back of his neck.

His fingers find the curve of Dean’s left shoulder, following it until he touches over the barely there scars left from his first bite. In Castiel’s colony, biting to mark your mate is usually unnecesarry. The entire colony is alerted when a pair decides to become bond-mates. It’s more common amongst shelf-mates – a pair that don’t want to make the bond but are still committed to one another – because there’s a different quality to the kin-connection when you speak to someone who has the bond.

Since the end of the war, Castiel has learned that the fang-fin scar their mates. It’s not the same kind of scarring that is given when a fin-kin joins the council. It’s a bite, or a scratch in a certain place, deep enough to be obvious – unlike the little white scars that Castiel can barely feel and are hardly noticeable on Dean’s skin unless he’s looking for it.

Six seasons ago, Castiel’s heart had already decided that it wanted Dean as his bond-mate before the rest of him had figured it out. That hasn’t changed. He may never get to have the bond with Dean as it’s meant to be, but he can be satisfied with knowing that Dean has never – and will never – be connected to anyone as deeply as he is with Castiel. Even if Dean meets his family and they make the kin-connection with him, Dean won’t have the link as open and unguarded as he does with him.

 _(Did you mean it?)_ Castiel asks, moving his mouth from Dean’s lips to his shoulder and tracking his tongue over the scars. _(Would you let me?)_

Dean’s hands tighten on his arms and an anxious thrumming fills their link. “Right now?”

He smiles against his skin and turns his head to press kisses to Dean’s throat, feeling with his tongue how his pulse is racing. _(Maybe now, maybe later, maybe one day. But if I wanted to mark you as my mate like fin-kin do, would you let me?)_

Silence meets his answer and when he leans back to see his face, Dean’s chin is tilted up and he’s staring at the stars. Castiel’s hands slip to his hips, thumbs brushing just above the waist of his swim shorts. He touches a light concern along the edges of Dean’s mind, a gentle request to see if he’s alright or if his question might have been too much for him.

Dean looks down at him slowly and even with nothing hiding his thoughts in the kin-connection, Castiel can’t read the expression on his face. There are subtle shifts to his eyes and mouth where sometimes he sees happiness in, but then an eyebrow twitches and he sees uncertainty. The link between them is silence with the quiet of private thinking in the part of the mind that isn’t automatically joined with the kin-connection.

“Cas.” Dean says, and his voice is soft enough to ease what nerves were agitated by his silence. “Cas, it sounds like you’re asking if I’d say ‘yes’ if you asked me to marry you.”

Marriage. That’s what Sam and Jess did in the pictures where she’s wearing the white dress. That was their wedding ceremony, their marriage ceremony, to show that they belong to each other. They exchanged rings and the rings are a symbol of their marriage – to show to everyone that they’re not available to anyone else. He remembers learning about that a long time ago, when he realized it’s not so different from the bonding ceremony.

His chest feels tight, like there’s something heavy resting over it. When he swallows, it feels like something is lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. He nods. _(Yes, that is what I’m asking.)_ Castiel also remembers that Dean was going to marry Cassie and when she left, he decided that it wasn’t something he wanted to do again.

Dean hums and tilts his head back to look at the stars again. His arms tighten, pulling Castiel closer until he can tuck his nose against Dean’s neck and loop his arms tightly around his waist. The touch along his back soothes the anxiety filling his chest. Would anything change between them if Dean said ‘no’? What about if he says ‘yes’? He already said that if Castiel wanted to bite him again, he could – but that could have been said purely out of the emotions of the moment and it might not actually be something that Dean meant. If he didn’t mean it, if he changes his mind, does that mean that he doesn’t want that kind of permanence with him?

Castiel should have kept his thoughts to himself.

“I wanna show you something.” Dean murmurs, shifting in Castiel’s arms. “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”

He carries him carefully up the stairs. Castiel is unwilling to move his face from Dean’s neck, arms firmly locked around his shoulders until they reach the bedroom. Dean leaves him on the bed while he changes. He sits at the laptop for a moment, little boxes flashing across the screen while he clicks at things with the little oval thing he calls a ‘mouse’. When he’s done with that, he gets a familiar black case down from the top of his closet.

 _(You’re going to play music?)_ Castiel sits up more on the bed, tail curling under him as he leans forward on his hands.

Dean nods, opening the clasps and taking his guitar out. He sits in the chair again, turning to face the bed while he adjusts to sitting with the guitar in his lap. After a few minutes of tuning to make sure that it sounds like it’s supposed to, Dean presses one more button on the laptop before lifting the guitar and preparing himself to begin.

Castiel’s side-fans flare at the first note that comes from the laptop. He recognizes the song and his voice from the first wordless tone and all his fans flare in surprise, adipose-fins rippling on the bed. Dean’s smile is sly and he’s watching closely as Castiel’s voice – even though his mouth is closed and he’s making no noise– fills the room.

It’s the – it’s _his_ bonding-song playing. It’s the one he sang for Dean and the one Dean played to find him again. It’s the one that, as it continues, Dean closes his eyes and his fingers start to move. Castiel has only heard the guitar reply to the song from a distance when Dean had been trying to find him. He hasn’t heard it face to face, or seen Dean pluck and strum at the strings of the guitar, concentration etched into every line of his face while he gives a reply to the song the only way that he can.

They meld together. Dean’s guitar fills in the spaces that laptop-Castiel’s voice doesn’t, it fills the place the accepting voice is supposed to be. It becomes a bonding-song that Castiel has never heard before. Even though his voice and the notes don’t change, adding the sound of Dean’s guitar and the difference that it brings turns it into something entirely different.

He doesn’t notice there are tears in his eyes until the last note fades to silence and Dean lowers the guitar. Dean stands, placing the guitar on the chair before he moves to sit near the top of the bed, one leg folded under him and the other hanging over the edge. Castiel twists around to face him and he doesn’t know what to say, barely even knows what to do.

“Does that answer your question?” His grin is wide and soft as he tilts his head. “Hey, what’s with the water works? That wasn’t the first time you heard that.” He reaches out and rubs his thumb under his eye, wiping away the tears that fell and the ones still unshed.

The touch breaks whatever stupor had settled in Castiel’s bones. Dean’s surprise splinters into the kin-connection as Castiel moves as quick as he’s able, dragging himself across the space between them to fill Dean’s lap and curl his tail around his waist, arms around his shoulders and hands in his hair as he kisses him with quick consecutive presses of their lips, happy sounds filling the space between each one. 

That was no refusal. The song Dean played on his guitar was one of acceptance. The sheer, blinding _warmth_ that filled the kin-connection had showed on Dean’s face and this was his ‘yes’. Dean isn’t always comfortable with his words. He might not ever be able to verbally say that he loves Castiel, but he can say it with his guitar and his actions and with the warmth that he pours into every thought, that buoys every feeling. Dean didn’t even use words to ask if Castiel would be his mate – he did it with years of searching, the book he wrote, and the home he built for them.

That strand of fear, still curled around his heart, weakens. The last remaining walls around Castiel’s own feelings of warmth, tattered and near useless, fall. He lets it flow freely into the kin-connection, blanketing the channels and mingling with Dean’s own. It makes Dean go still against him before a blistering joy shines through everything and he twists, his hands sliding down Castiel’s back quickly to pin his back-fans flat before he presses him to the bed, the kisses turning firm around his smiles.

They fall asleep like that, hours, minutes, or days later – Castiel doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. He falls asleep happy, tangled with Dean in the kin-connection and in body. Tomorrow he’ll return to the colony. He’ll face the council and his family knowing that Dean loves him, that he’s accepted the bonding-song and that he is _his_ whether he bears more than just tattoos of his markings or not. 


	48. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He leans forward until his forehead bumps Dean’s shoulder. _(I don’t want to go yet.)_ The days passed too quickly. It was enough for them to talk and work out most everything, leaving just that one little doubt that still weighs him down. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy him after six seasons of being without Dean and all his differences and complexities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people:  
> kayla-kaat-draws, rainbowlightsaber, willgrahamsfall, oh-sassy-little-sparrow, dis.posa.ble, fathersuperior, chabit (DA), days-of-dust, and yaoicollectr
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._

 

Castiel doesn’t even hear the alarm. He wakes to damp fingers working water into the webbing of his back-fans. His side-fans feel cool and damp. There are towels are tucked along his tail and his scales feel fresh and wet when he stretches across the bed, the end of his tail curling over the bottom edge while he muffles a yawn into the pillow. Warmth pulses brightly through the channels of the kin-connection, stroking soothingly over his thoughts.

“Go back to sleep.” Dean murmurs against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his skin. “I’ve got this.”

The bed shifts as Dean’s hands move from his back-fans to the adipose-fins along his tail, making sure that they’re pliable under his fingers. Castiel hums in agreement and stretches again, pushing his arms under the pillow. It’s doubtful that he’ll fall asleep again while Dean is touching him, but this has always been his favourite part about needing to keep his scales and webbing damp. It’s a soothing touch that feels good and Castiel is certain that he’ll never tire of it.

Dean laughs softly and tugs at his elbow. “Let me get your hands before you get comfortable.”

He hums again and lets Dean pull his arms back, palms cradling Castiel’s hands while he uses his thumbs to rub water into the webbing between his fingers. A purr rumbles deep in Castiel’s chest and he lets Dean move and roll him as he sees fit. Although he’s awake, he is still tired and more than willing to let Dean take care of everything right now if that’s what he wants.

The moment Dean is done with his tail, Castiel turns on his side and curls his tail up, sweeping it across the bed until he finds Dean leaning over to put the spray bottle on the bedside table. He curls it around his waist and tugs until Dean slides back into place next to him. Castiel’s glow stays sleep-dim and he enjoys the way the subtle light casts shadows on Dean’s skin. They make themselves comfortable against each other and Dean pulls the blanket back up to cover them.

Castiel fills the kin-connection with his appreciation and gratefulness. He rolls every emotion around the constant stream of warmth that he does nothing to stem the flow of. Dean smiles and presses a kiss to his forehead, murmuring a quiet goodnight against his skin that Castiel responds to in kind.

When bright-pearl rises and they leave the bed, they’ll have to talk about what’s going to happen later in the day and what they’re going to do about the future. None of that is what Castiel wants to think about now. He just wants to enjoy this moment and the heat of Dean’s body and the warmth of his heart.

He’s curls tightly against Dean’s side and tucks his face against his neck, lips pressed to the steady pulse beating under his skin. There’s nothing that Castiel needs to worry about right now. Everything that he wants is right here and less than a day’s swim away. On his swim back to the colony he’ll organize his thoughts to how he’ll convince the council to let him live here when he’s not a part of the sentry rotation. He’ll return whenever they need him and he can leave Hester in charge of his garrison while he’s away. She led them after Uriel’s death while Castiel captured and if he’s asked, he’ll give up his rank in the colony and as a soldier. He’ll do whatever they ask of him as long as it means that he can keep the colony and Dean at the same time.

Dean’s fingers find the space behind his side-fans and massage gentle into his hair. Castiel’s purr rumbles steadily long after Dean’s fingers stop moving and his breathing evens out into the slow, deep pulls of sleep. It takes him longer to fall back to sleep. He devotes this moment to memory, something to remember to comfort himself during the coming nights when he’ll be sleeping alone in the cold of the deep on his sleep-shelf.

Maybe, if Dean is able, he would be willing to come out at night on the boat and Castiel could spend the nights on it with him. That thought brings a smile to his lips and that hope comforts him enough to sleep for what few hours it is before the alarm rings again. Castiel groans when it starts beeping and he pulls the blanket over his head as he turns onto his stomach. Dean laughs as he reaches over him to turn off the alarm.

_(Why did you reset it for so early? Bright-pearl hasn’t even risen yet.)_

Dean kisses the side of his head through the blanket. “Because you have to go back today and I want as much time with you as I can before that.” The bed shifts as Dean moves, bending away for a moment before his hands are back and sliding under the blanket, fingers dancing over the small of Castiel’s back. “It’s overcast today. If we’re careful, we can spend most of the morning swimming.”

Castiel lifts his head enough to let the blanket fall away, his tail twisting around where it lays over Dean’s legs. Dean grins and leans in, his lips and tongue tracking the contours of Castiel’s side-fan, following the spines to his cheek. He presses light kisses to the scales along his cheek bone, tongue tracing the blue marks of his glow pattern, before Castiel turns his face for a proper kiss.

 _(Or…)_ Dean’s thoughts drift teasingly through the kin-connection, pulling at the edges of Castiel’s mind much the same as his hands and lips are coaxing him to follow as Dean leans away, rolling onto his back. _(Or we can stay right here for a while. Up to you.)_

That is an entirely unfair decision to leave to him. Castiel loves swimming with Dean. But he also loves touching him and being touched by him. He loves the way Dean’s body moves in the water and in their bed. He loves how completely unsubtle Dean is when he pulls Castiel on top of him, squirming until Castiel is lying between his legs.

 _(I think you’ve already decided what you want to do.)_ He points out, dragging his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip and eliciting a full body shiver from him.

 _(It’s about what_ you _want to do, Cas.)_ Dean lifts his head to follow the kisses, hands pushing into Castiel’s hair to keep him in place. _(This is just me giving my two cents on it.)_

That’s a phrase Castiel doesn’t recognize, but he comprehends the meaning behind it. Even if they do this first, it doesn’t mean that they can’t go swimming after. Depending on what they do, it won’t take them very long. There’s still that one line left that Castiel won’t cross, not yet. He may be letting Dean have the warmth that fills him with every thought he has of him, but there is still that small part of Castiel that refuses to believe – even after the song from last night – that this is real. He wants to and most of him does, but there’s still that little curl of doubt around his heart – the fear that Dean won’t be here when he comes back from the colony.

“Cas.” Dean says his name firmly and Castiel knows all his thoughts were shared freely. “Do what you’re comfortable with. I’m not going to complain.” He pulls Castiel back in for a lingering kiss. _(I told you, I understand. I’ll wait, I’ll stay, and I’ll still be here long after you realize that I mean it.)_

A small noise sounds in the back of Castiel’s throat without his permission and he kisses Dean harder than before, pressing him back into the pillows. He drags his claws gently down Dean’s sides, leaving little red lines in their wake as he finds the edge of his undershorts and pushes his hands underneath the fabric. Dean pushes his hips up as Castiel works getting the his shorts off. He draws his tail up close enough that he can sit back on it when they can go no further and Dean lifts his legs to make it easier to pull the undershorts off completely.

Castiel throws them away and grabs one of Dean’s legs before he can put it back to the bed. He has a fascination with Dean’s legs and the muscles under the skin. It’s not just because of the blue marks of the tattoos – yet another sign that Dean is _his_ and no one else’s. They’re _different_ – Dean is different. And he loves ever single difference that he finds – every flaw and facet of his skin.

He kisses the tattoos and the freckles, stopping to lick at every dark mark he sucked into the white insides of his thighs. Dean makes surprised, sharp noises whenever Castiel nips at them, or seals his mouth to a new place on his stomach and hips to place new marks. It’s while he has Dean’s leg up to press kisses to the backs of his knees, that Castiel realizes he has never explored Dean’s back with his mouth beyond the few times they had sex while he was behind him.

 _(Roll over.)_ Castiel gestures with his hand as he leans out of the way.

Dean raises his eyebrows and a curious amusement flickers along the edges of his mind as he complies. His exploration begins with the slope of the back of Dean’s neck, following along the blades of his shoulders and the curve of his spine until he reaches the small of his back. The entire time, Dean makes small groans of approval as Castiel traces each muscle with mouth and tongue and hands.

 _(Stop moving.)_ He reprimands Dean for the roll of his hips and presses down on them to keep them from rolling against the bed.

Another groan rises and Dean presses his face into a pillow. _(Don’t torture me, Cas. You keep touching everywhere and getting me all worked up and not touching me –)_

_(If I can hold back, so can you.)_

“Fine.” Dean props himself up on his elbows and leans to one side. “Then why don’t you switch places with me and we’ll see how long you can hold back before you’re out and proud.” He reaches down to press the heel of his palm to Castiel’s  sheath, rubbing from base to head in one smooth motion and grinning when the muscles twitch hard under his fingers.

They switch places and Castiel lays back once the pillows are piled enough that he can watch when Dean moves low enough. Dean straddles his lap and starts with his neck, tracing each scale-lined gill with his tongue. He uses his fingers in Castiel’s hair to make him tilt his head back, baring his throat for him to find the thin skin under his jaw. Castiel nearly unseats Dean with the surprised jerk of his body, tail curling sharply across the bed behind him, when Dean seals his mouth nearly the hinge of his jaw and sucks a hard, dark mark there. His hands stay on Dean’s thighs and it’s a constant struggle not to remember not to grip hard enough where he would dig his claws in.

Dean leaves a trail of marks down Castiel’s chest, sliding down his tail the lower he goes. Castiel arches into each kiss and suck of his nipples, trying to muffle the small surprised noises whenever Dean grazes his teeth across his skin. By the time Dean reaches his stomach, he’s already hard in his sheath and the muscles are twitching almost painfully. It doesn’t help that Dean insists on raking his nails over the blue lines of his glow pattern on his sides while occasionally rubbing the hard line of his erection against Castiel’s scales.

It’s only when Dean puts his mouth to slit at the head of Castiel’s sheath, tongue tracing the widening edge, that he can’t hold it back anymore. Dean’s triumph is nearly tangible in the kin-connection when his penis slides free. He grins up at Castiel smugly before lowering his head to blow cool air over his heated erection. That’s the only attention Dean gives it before he continues kissing down his tail, tracing almost every dot of his glow pattern.. He slides his hands underneath to lift it rather than sliding back off the edge of the bed.

When he reaches the end and closes his teeth over the point. It’s something he’s never done before and something Castiel has never had anyone do to him. He’s had the space between the end of his adipose-fins and the edge of his end-fans tickled before, but no one has ever grinned at him while dragging their teeth over his scales before sucking lightly at the blunt tip of his tail. It sends a sock up his spine that has his elbows giving out under him as it forces a surprised and overly pleased noise from him. Of course it’s nothing like the relief and heat when Dean’s mouth closes over _other_ parts of him – but it’s a surprising reaction none the less.

“Huh, that’s interesting.” Dean murmurs, licking once more at the end of his tail before lowering it. “Okay, Cas. Turn over.”

_(Dean –)_

“Nuh uh.” Dean leans over and presses a kiss to the base of his penis. “Now you get to see how hard it is not to rut against the bed while I’m paying all sorts of attention to your back.” He grins and his fingers are quick and cunning as they find the top of his slit hidden under the curve of his penis, pressing and rubbing without mercy.

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple wildly against Dean’s legs and the bedding and he nearly draws blood with how hard he bites his lip to keep the moan from spilling out. Dean’s grin is teasing as arousal and warmth fill the kin-connection. His limbs feel weak as he rolls over, cheek resting on the pillow as Dean starts follows the design up the back of his tail. The spines of his back-fans twitch and flex the closer Dean gets to them and Castiel fully expects him to abuse the knowledge that he has.

Dean is well aware of how much Castiel likes to have the area where his back-fans join with his skin touched. True to Castiel’s expectations, Dean doesn’t hold back the moment he reaches the base of his back-fans. His hands guide them to spread wide and his mouth tracks every edge. He sucks and nips at the ends of every spine and Castiel is certain that Dean leaves lines of hickeys along his back. What he didn’t expect was for how hard it would be to not rub his erection against the soft sheets.

When Dean reaches the back of his neck and his teeth dig in around the fading mark there, Castiel can’t help the buck of his hips or the quiet moan that trembles in his throat. Dean renews the mark there before he sits low on his tail. Castiel’s scrabbles at the pillows when Dean lifts his hips, dragging him and the pillow he’s holding down the bed a short ways until his hips are in line with Dean’s while he kneels behind him.

 _(What are you doing, Dean?)_ He raises up onto his elbows and looks back over his shoulder at the wide grin he wears and the appreciation rolling through the kin-connection.

“Do you remember that night in our bunk when the others were all asleep?” Dean places a hand between Castiel’s shoulders and pushing him down until he has no choice but to press his cheek to the sheets.

 _(Of course I do.)_ He tries to keep looking, tries to watch what Dean is doing as he slides his hands along Castiel’s sides and hips. That night Dean had covered his mouth and brought him to orgasm with just his hand while he sat behind him. It was the same night that Dean had rubbing against the swell of Castiel’s tail until he reached completion too.

“Good. Now, don’t move.” Dean leans over to press a kiss in the middle of his back before he moves away, going for the bottle of lube they left out on the bedside table yesterday.

Heat flushes through him and Castiel can’t help the skittering pound of his heart at the sound of the slippery jelly being squeezed from the bottle. His stomach feels tight with arousal and he’s hot under his skin and his scales. When Dean returns to his position straddling the part of Castiel’s tail that isn’t folded under him, Castiel curls the rest of it around one of Dean’s legs, tip curved along the bottom of his foot.

Dean’s fingers and the jelly of the lube are cold when they touch the heated skin of his arousal and Castiel muffles a quiet noise into the pillow clutched under him. His hips rock, automatically pushing into his hand when Dean doesn’t move it, his fingers staying loose enough that they don’t give Castiel what the wants but still they offer satisfaction to that thrumming heat in his veins. He can feel Dean’s smile against his back as he murmurs encouragement over his skin, praise seeping into the kin-connection every time Castiel moves back and feels the hard line of Dean’s erections against the swell of his tail.

“Just like that, Cas.” Dean’s free hand is on his hip, guiding him to move back and forth.

He feeds a quiet reminder into their link that Castiel brushes aside without care. Of course he’s well aware that if this is too much for him and if he’s not comfortable, he can tell Dean to stop. That’s always been a given no matter what they do. This isn’t any different from what they did yesterday and the only line that Castiel has that he won’t cross yet is still leagues away.

The harder that Castiel rocks back against Dean’s erection, the more friction that he gives him as Dean barely moves against him, the tighter his fingers become. Castiel’s breathing is rough and muffled by the pillow he holds between his teeth as Dean keeps doing this _thing_ with his thumb over and under the head of his penis every time Castiel pushes forward into the tunnel of his fingers. It sends a sharp, shivering bolt of pleasure up his back every time and Castiel nearly whimpers every time.

Castiel never expects Dean’s other hand to join in. It’s always a pleasant surprise whenever his fingers find the sensitive head of his slit to press, rub, and tease. Dean usually only does it when he wants Castiel to orgasm before him and it’s a very effective tactic. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes before Castiel’s groan is stifled into the pillow, back-fans flared wide as he makes a mess of Dean’s fingers and the sheets under him.

Dean makes sure that Castiel slumps to the side instead of directly over the splattered evidence of his orgasm. He gently pulls the pillow out of Castiel’s arms and leans over him. That buzzing white that fills him every time makes Castiel’s limbs feel loose and weak and he only rolls onto his back with the help of Dean’s guiding hands.

The kisses are slow and lazy. Castiel doesn’t have the breath or the energy for more at the moment, but Dean is content to let him loop his arms over his shoulders as he rubs his erection against Castiel’s stomach. He’s still not finished by the time that Castiel has recovered and he makes a surprised sound against his mouth when Castiel folds his tail up, tracking the end down his back. When it brushes over the ring of muscles, Dean’s hips jerk violently and a pulse of warning echoes through the kin-connection.

 _(I know what I’m doing, Dean.)_ Castiel chides him, nipping at his lips as his hands move to Dean’s hips and angle them better. _(Trust me.)_

That anxious edge to Dean’s thoughts eases, dropping away quickly when Castiel maneuvers the end of his tail to press at the stretch of skin behind Dean’s balls. Dean groans and kisses him harder, movements getting erratic as his hips rock back against the blunt press of Castiel’s tail. It still takes Dean’s hand on his penis and several quick jerks of his wrist to bring himself to orgasm.

“Sorry.” Dean murmurs against his lips, panting around each breath. “I made a mess on you.”

Castiel leans back into the pillows and grins down at the drops of white on his stomach. _(I don’t mind.)_

Dean uses the sheets to wipe the mess away. “I’ll wash them all tonight anyways.” He explains when Castiel makes a face at that. “It’s laundry day soon anyway.”

 _(Why don’t we wash them before we go swimming? I can help and I’d like to see how that machine in the bathroom works.)_ Castiel watches from his wheelchair while Dean strips the bed and the pillows of the bedding. Even revealing that the blanket is actually white and the green patterns all over it are actually a cover like for the pillows. _(Please?)_

“Sure. I’ll show you how to get it started and I’ll grab breakfast while you load it. We can swim after.” Dean grins at him as he bundles everything together to throw into the basket he pulls out from the bottom of his closet.

He pulls on a pair of swim shorts before giving Castiel the basket to hold while he pushes him into the bathroom. Castiel listens intently while Dean explains how much of the liquid soap to use and which buttons to push. Even while Dean is in the kitchen making his breakfast, Castiel confirms through the kin-connection that he’s pushing the right ones after he’s put everything from the basket into the machine and shut the door.

Castiel takes his breakfast in the cove, visiting his relief-area and eating several fish while Dean prepares the blue ring for floating on again. This time, however, he has a loop of rope attached to the handles on the ring. Steady-blue is grey with clouds. It’s not dark like a storm, but it’s enough that Dean is willing to let them swim everywhere in the cove instead of staying under the shade of the house.

 _(What is the rope for?)_ He tugs at it lightly while holding the ring still for Dean to climb onto.

The image that Dean pushes into the kin-connection, lined with a bright excitement and hope, is unexpected. Castiel isn’t sure if he should be intrigued or unimpressed by Dean’s suggestion. Dean wants Castiel to try dragging the ring around the cove as fast as he can. It’s no different from when Dean held onto his shoulders and Castiel pulled him from one side of the cove to the other from a few days ago. But it does _seem_ different – he’s just not sure how.

Dean lays across the ring on his stomach and holds the handles tightly when Castiel grabs the rope. He explains that this is going to be like tubing – when the ring gets pulled behind a boat. It certainly isn’t nearly as fast, but Dean still laughs as he’s dragged in circles and between the columns under the house. Castiel makes it his mission to flip the tube as often as he can and Dean does his best to keep from falling off.

They do switch places and Castiel enjoys being pulled around slowly. It’s relaxing and amusing to watch Dean struggle to get any kind of speed. At one point, Dean vows to take Castiel out in the boat and use it to _really_ give Castiel a ride around in the ring. It sounds intriguing, but the worry of being seen by other humans dampens the excitement that he might have over the idea. Dean doesn’t press the matter when he notices.

Dean eventually gets tired and Castiel is more than happy to share the ring with him like they did before. This time he’s curled in Dean’s lap, one of Dean’s arms over his tail as he curves it around him to hang off the ring behind his back. They float aimlessly around the cove, Dean paddling with his hands every so often when they drift too close to something. Castiel has his cheek on Dean’s collarbone, forehead against his jaw while he turns Dean’s hand over in his, fitting their palms together to see the minimal difference in the size of their hands.

When it’s nearly midday, Castiel is aware of it several minutes before an alarm rings on the deck around the house. He doesn’t need bright-pearl to tell him. There’s something sitting deep inside him that keeps him aware of time passing and he can usually tell what point of the day it is – though fin-kin don’t number the hours like humans do.

Dean’s arm around Castiel’s shoulder goes tight before he sighs and turns his head to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “C’mon. Let’s get some lunch. I’ll make grilled cheese again.”

Castiel hides his face against Dean’s neck before they purposefully capsize the ring. The idea of lunch, even the crunchy-smooth taste of the sandwiches, isn’t appetizing to him right now. Nothing is. He doesn’t want to do anything and wishes that time would just _stop_ here. There’s a heavy weight settling in his chest and Castiel hates that it’s a fear of returning home, a fear of finding out that all of this was nothing more than a cruel dream. He’s terrified that the council and the colony will make it impossible for him to stay with Dean and have them too. And there’s that dark doubt around his heart that he will get the colony’s permission and he’ll return to the cove to find Dean gone.

Dean holds on to the ring while Castiel tows it back to the dock and he helps him out of the water, leaving Castiel with a towel thrown over his head while he runs up the stairs to turn off the alarm. He hasn’t moved when Dean comes back, still staring at the white underside of the towel.

“Cas?” Dean asks softly, lifting the edge of the towel to show him crouching next to him. Concern twists through the kin-connection. “What’s wrong?”

He leans forward until his forehead bumps Dean’s shoulder. _(I don’t want to go yet.)_ The days passed too quickly. It was enough for them to talk and work out most everything, leaving just that one little doubt that still weighs him down. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy him after six seasons of being without Dean and all his differences and complexities.

“Then don’t.” Dean’s voice is a quiet whisper against his side-fan as he lifts Castiel’s arms to his shoulders. “Stay for a little longer.” He gathers him in his arms and grunts quietly when he takes his weight as he stands. “It’s a shorter trip when we go by boat. I can take you out there this evening. It’ll give us another five or six hours, if you want to push it.”

 _(I do.)_ Castiel tights his arms around Dean’s shoulder and pushes his nose against his pulse. It hadn’t occurred to him that they could leave together.

They eat their lunch sitting side by side at the table instead of across from each other. Even their chairs are close together, close enough that there’s no risk of falling off the normal chair if he leans into Dean’s side and rests his head on his shoulder while he nibbles at the half of a sandwich that Dean made for him. Dean still doesn’t like the idea of giving Castiel too much of their food. Castiel doesn’t complain. He still doesn’t have much of an appetite even with the decision that he’ll stay until supper time.

There isn’t much for them to talk about during their meal, but even with their approaching separation looming ahead of them, it’s a comfortable silence. They enjoy each other’s company even if there’s nothing to talk about or anything to do. Even when they’re done and Castiel helps from his wheelchair to put the things in the dishwasher, they don’t say anything. There isn’t anything _to_ say.

Dean wheels Castiel out onto the deck on the same side as the stairs. He waits there for the few minutes that it takes Dean to get the clean clothes and bedding from the machine in the bathroom. He puts the basket next to him and hands Castiel a box full of little pincers and a wheel.

Castiel watches as Dean sets up two poles in the posts of the railing, each on opposite ends of the deck. The poles come out from _inside_ the posts and lock into place. One of them has a two spools at the top of it, one of them empty and the other wrapped in white cord. The other pole has a set of prongs on it that Dean clips the wheel into. He finds the end of the cord on the spool and pulls it across the deck to the other pole.

 _(What are you doing?)_ Castiel tilts his head and watches as he threads the cord around the wheel and brings it back to attach to the empty spool.

“Setting up the clothes line.” Dean explains. “Pass me two of the clips and a shirt and I’ll show you.”

He takes the shirt that Castiel holds out and the pincers he gives him. After making sure the shirt isn’t inside out, he pins it to the cord with the pincers. Dean pulls at the cord, moving the shirt over as the cord starts to wrap around the other spool. Castiel has the next piece of clothing and more of the pincers ready for him. They continue until the basket is empty and everything is hanging on the line.

“See?” Dean grins, pushing the basket into the corner with his foot and putting the mostly empty box of pincers into it. “Now the wind will dry them out by the time I take them down tonight.”

_(What if it rains?)_

“Hasn’t happened yet. And the weather forecast didn’t say anything about rain this week.” Dean shrugs and turns the chair around to push him back inside. “It’s not like they won’t dry afterward anyway.”

He has a point and Castiel has no more questions, but he is more than happy to help Dean put new sheets on the bed. They’re menial and boring tasks to Dean, but to Castiel they’re something new. He’s never done this before and he’s interested to see all the different ways that humans do things – even Dean. Even after living nearly a month with them, there’s still so much to see about how humans live and Castiel wants to learn it all. He enjoys the little tasks like putting the pillows in their cases – which are little more than large bags – or holding the edges of the fitted sheet while Dean tucks the opposite corners into place. It’s new and interesting and even if Dean doesn’t like having to do it, he appreciates Castiel’s help.

They have to wait for the blanket’s cover to finish drying before it can be put back on the bed. For now it stays folded over Dean’s desk chair. Castiel doesn’t mind. Having fresh sheets on the bed is different. Somehow they don’t feel the same as the sheets that were on Dean’s bed before and they certainly have a different smell.

He crawls his way onto the bed when Dean is busy in the bathroom and pushes his face into the pillows. None of it smells like Dean or like him and Castiel isn’t sure that he likes that. It makes the bed feel foreign to him and he’s frowning at the pillows when Dean returns. All Dean manages is a pulse of curiosity before Castiel holds the pillows out to him.

_(Make them smell like you.)_

Dean takes a moment to understand what he’s asking before he starts laughing. He sits on the edge of the bed and flops backward, aiming strategically so his head is in Castiel’s lap. “It’s going to take a whole night’s sleep to make them smell like me.” His grin is upside down when he tilts his head back to look at him. “I promise that they’ll be back to normal when you come home.”

Whatever answer Castiel had been composing fades away at the last word Dean says. He had been expecting ‘back’ to be the end of that sentence.  Home. His home has always been the colony and his family in the trench. It’s true that he wants to return here and be with Dean, to go back and forth between them and have them both, but he never stopped to think that _this_ would be his home too.

Seasons ago he was ready to think of Dean as his home. Looking down at him now, at the way the grin is slowly slipping from his face as he realizes his slip of the tongue is the cause for Castiel’s silence, he determines that nothing has changed. Home is something precious to Dean. It’s something he didn’t have before and he’s calling _here_ his home. It’s another sharp blow to that fear around his heart. Castiel dips down and folds his tail up, forcing Dean to sit up enough that Castiel can kiss him even if their noses bump their chins. Dean wastes no time in righting himself for proper kisses.

 _(I like the sound of that.)_ Castiel twists his tail around Dean’s hips and cups his face. _(Say that again.)_

“Home?” Dean pulls back enough from the kisses for Castiel to see his grin. “You’re going to come home when you’re done talking with the council, right?”

He kisses Dean again. _(Yes. I’ll come home to you.)_

His laugh sounds in his throat and bubbles around the kiss before Dean presses his back into the pillows, face pressed to his gills as he laughs and hugs him tightly. “Good. I like hearing that too.”

They lay for a few minutes like that until Dean’s laughter subsides. By then an idea has occurred to Castiel and the opportune moment to implement it arises when Dean finally pushes up on one elbow. He opens his mouth to say something, but Castiel gives him no chance to speak. The pillow in his hand catches Dean unawares and he falls back with a grunt.

“Did you just –” Dean blinks up at him when Castiel sits up, but the rest of his question is lost in the thump of the pillow over his face again. Shock and understanding are at war in the kin-connection as Dean pushes the pillow and Castiel’s arm away.

Castiel smiles at him smugly. “King Castiel.”

“Oh. So that’s how you want to play it.” Dean grins back, groping behind him for another of the pillows.

The pillow fight knocks the alarm off the bedside table and Dean nearly upends the lamp on his side of the bed. Several times Castiel’s adipose-pins get pinched under him or under Dean’s legs and feet as he tries standing or kneeling on the bed. It’s a poor decision to try and jump over the sweep of Castiel’s tail and stand at the head of the bed, a pillow in either hand. The only thing that ends it is when Dean leans too far back out of the swing of Castiel’s pillow and his foot slips on the edge of the bed.

The resulting crash is loud and startling and immediately worries him. _(Dean? Are you okay?)_ Castiel pulls himself to the edge of the bed and leans over it, starting down at him.

Dean is laying on his back, head titled back and breathing heavily. His legs and arms are splayed out and both pillows are no longer in his hold. He doesn’t answer, but there’s the echo of physical pain through the kin-connection. Castiel stretches to touch Dean’s ankle, dragging the tips of his claws over it. His leg twitches and then he groans and lifts his head to look down at Castiel.

“Ow.”

 _(Are you alright?)_ He sits up and turns, tail sliding over the edge of the bed as he lowers himself gently to sit between Dean’s legs. _(Are you hurt?)_

“I’ll be sore in the morning, but nothing’s broken.” Dean sits up slowly, wincing. “At least I don’t think so. Let me run a quick diagnostic.” He starts moving all his parts, rolling his neck and shoulders, stretching his arms above his head and bending them at the elbows and wrists. He bows his back and carefully moves rotates his ankles, bending his knees as he carefully gets to his feet and twists at his hips, swaying them side to side. “Nope, looks like everything is working properly.”

 _(Good.)_ Castiel holds his hands up and Dean bends to lift him back to the bed. _(If you’re going to be sore, you’ll be better when I return, right?)_

Dean raises an eyebrow and starts gathering the pillows to put them back at the top of the bed. “That depends when you’re coming back.”

He frowns, looking down at where his hands are folded in his lap. _(I don’t know how long it’s going to take for them to talk, or if they’re going to let me attend to my duties during their discussion. I know that I want to return and I_ am _going to – but I’ll need to make arrangements if I’m going to be away from the colony during when I’m not on rotation.)_

“Is that what you’re going to do?” Dean sits next to him, shoulder bumping his. “Stay there when you’re on duty and come back here when you’re not?”

 _(That’s what I’d like to do. I would be there for one rotation and then here for two.)_ He leans into Dean and purrs lightly when he puts his arm around his shoulders. _(There are whole days between my sentry shifts. If you wanted, you could come out on the boat and I could spend my rest time with you.)_

“I could.” Dean presses a kiss to the top of his head. “It all depends on what they decide, doesn’t it? Whether you’ll be able to come here or not?”

_(Even if they say that I can’t, I’ll return. I’ll fight to have you and the colony.)_

Dean is quiet for a few minutes before his arm goes tight. “What if you can’t have us both?”

That’s a question that Castiel can’t answer until it comes to having to make that decision. He’s torn between choosing his family and choosing Dean. The choice was made once before and he was happy with that decision then. And he thinks he could be happy with making it again – with choosing Dean. This is a place where they can live together in a home that was built for him too and there’s the cove and all the food that he’s used to eating. He just doesn’t want to give up his family too if he can help it. He loves them and he loves what he does and the people that he knows. After returning to them for six seasons and having the time to think, he’s not sure that he would be able to leave them all behind. And he doesn’t want to be selfish enough that choosing love over family would force the entire colony to move to keep themselves safe.

“I know how important family is.” Dean murmurs, his cheek resting against the top of Castiel’s head. “As much as I missed you, I didn’t even consider moving out here until I found out that Sam and Jess would be here too. I’m close to my family and I want you to be close to yours too. Don’t worry about me, okay? I made my choice and I’m happy. You make whatever choice is going to make _you_ happy.”

_(But you –)_

“Don’t make me say that cliché line.”

Castiel pulls back to frown at him, confusion flickering through the kin-connection. _(I don’t understand what you’re talking about?)_

Dean looks up the ceiling before sighing. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. That line. It’s so cliché.” He tilts his head to look at Castiel. “I hope you realize how much you’ve turned my life into a frikken chick flick.”

That only deepens Castiel’s bewilderment. _(I don’t –)_

A kiss interrupts the thought as Dean smothers it with his own. _(Forget it.)_

_(But you –)_

“We’ve got a few hours left. D’you want to watch more TV?” Dean kisses him lightly between every other word. “Or I could show you how to work other stuff? Or we could –”

Castiel does to him what he did before and smothers his thoughts with a sharp push of his presence through the kin-connection. He mimics the mental shove with a physical one, pushing Dean back onto the bed. Dean gets the hint easily enough and anticipation starts curling along the edges of his mind. That fades when all Castiel does is fit himself to Dean’s side, an arm thrown over his waist and his cheek pillowed against his shoulder.

“You want to nap?” Dean asks quietly, automatically  curving his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and laying his other hand over his arm.

 _(No. I just enjoy lying with you and I won’t be able to do that for an unknown amount of days.)_ He drapes his tail over Dean’s legs, amused when Dean bends them without thinking to accommodate him to twist his tail under and around them. _(Can we just – lay here? Talk? You can sleep if you want.)_

Dean hums quietly and the kin-connection goes silent for several minutes. His emotions continue the roll through their link – the content, the warmth and the nervous edge that lines both of their thoughts as time steadily ticks by. He’s thinking privately again and Castiel is more than happy to let him do that, considering he’s doing the same. There’s so much that he wants to say and do with Dean right now, but at the same time he can’t think of any of it.

It’s all nonsense in his head and all he can think about is what the council will say and how long they’ll detain him from returning here. And in the mess of his thoughts is that one small voice shouting about with the worry that Dean might not be here if or when he does make it back. There’s too many thoughts that he doesn’t want to have and he doesn’t know what to do with them. There’s nothing that he _can_ do with them until he returns to the colony.

Some time passes before resolution sets firm and steady across Dean’s thoughts and he squeezes Castiel’s shoulders. “Tell me what it’s like.”

 _(What is what like?)_ He shifts until he can rest his chin on Dean’s chest and watch his face while his lips move. His eyes are closed and he would almost seem like he’s sleeping if it wasn’t for the talking.

“Your other home. You never told us everything about it, right? If they’re going to be stealing you from me every two weeks, then I’m going to be curious about what you do down there.”

Castiel hesitates. It wasn’t until the last week that he told Dean, Sam and Jess so much about the fin-kin and their way of life in the trench. Before he couldn’t trust them fully and he tried to only tell them what they would learn from studying his body. Some things – things that wouldn’t put the colony at danger – were shared season ago, but certainly not everything.

Things are different now. After last night Dean is practically his mate now. As his mate, Dean should know all the things that Castiel could be doing. He should know about the dangers, and the pleasures – the amusements that he can entertain himself with and all the little tasks that make up his daily life. It won’t take long for Castiel to learn about everything that Dean does here. It’s only been a week and he’s already learned so much, but he doesn’t know about Dean’s routines.

When he came here, he made things change. Before Dean would spend every day out looking for him. Now that Dean has found him, his patterns will change. He’ll spend more time here and he won’t be alone anymore. Castiel hopes that he will be living here too for the majority of his time.

Things have changed. Dean has changed and so has Castiel. Everything is different now.

 _(I told you one about some of the things that we do. Pick one and I’ll give you more details.)_ He lays his cheek back against Dean’s shoulder and waits.

With this method, they move through how the artisans create glass baubles in the volcanic vent with their stone frames and molds. He tells about how they take the spare metals from the smiths – the pieces too small to forge into swords – and use them in their designs to create trinkets and items that many members of the colony use to decorate their sleep-shelves. They have no need for trade or purchasing items and everything is given freely. The artisans create simply for something to do and are skilled at assisting the smiths should extra help be needed.

That leads into talking about the smiths themselves and how they work closer to the vent than the nesting shelves. Castiel describes about how they use the vent to melt metals in molds to form into the swords and daggers that they sharpen with stones to create dangerous weapons. Talking about the smiths turns into talking about the miners and the caverns that they’ve dug deep into the cliff walls to carve out the chunks of metals within it. He even shares his memories of helping the smiths and the miners by sorting the metals by size for them.

Dean asks questions throughout everything, interjecting with his own information to compare how humans do the same things. Castiel is fascinated by it and he watches avidly when Dean gets the laptop from the desk and they lay on their stomachs side by side to watch the screen as videos play showing how humans make swords and all the different ways that they mine things. There are so many things that humans mine for that Castiel has Dean take him through pictures of everything.

 _(I thought I knew so much.)_ Castiel rests his chin on his arms, watching Dean click around the screen with the little pad and buttons. _(But your world is infinitely large than mine.)_

“Yeah, well, you know what you need to know to survive. That’s important stuff. All of this?” He gestures at the screen and the boxes that keep disappearing. “Knowing it doesn’t matter much if it’s not something that interests you or plays an actual part in your life. Some people like knowing everything when they don’t actually need to and some people just like knowing more than other people to make other people feel bad.” He shrugs and closes the laptop.

 _(I want to learn it to know more about your world. I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.)_ Castiel doesn’t mention that he wants to learn everything so he’ll understand more of his references and be able to make them himself.

Dean snorts a laugh and rolls onto his back, stretching his arms above his head and arching his hips from the bed. “I don’t doubt that. There’s going to plenty of time for you to learn stuff, don’t worry.” He sits up and glances at the clock. “Did you want to eat anything special before we go?”

Mentioning leaving sends Castiel’s spirits plummeting. Even though he knows that he needs to leave to get everything sorted out with his colony, he doesn’t actually _want_ to leave. It means leaving Dean and he’s terrified that leaving him will mean losing him again. And thoughts like that are not favorable to stirring up his appetite. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to keep down anything that he eats.

“How about a soup? Something nice and simple. I have cans of cream of chicken and I can throw in leftover chicken from the other night.” Dean leans over and presses a kiss to his side-fan. “Don’t go back hungry. You’re just gonna be irritable and scare the crap out of everyone.”

Castiel huffs and flicks his side-fan but he accepts the offer. Except dinner doesn’t take them nearly as long as he would have hoped for. It feels like it’s only a few minutes later that he’s sitting in the same seat Jess sat in before, watching as Dean unties the ropes that keep the boat tethered to the dock. He’s chosen to leave all his treasures on the ledge in the couch-room, taking only the necklace that he hasn’t removed since his first night here.

The engine rumbles quietly, moving the boat across the cove to the crack in the wall. From there, Dean raises the helicopter blades and uses a paddle to guide them through what turns out to be like a shallow tunnel. It twists and turns like the underwater one that Castiel uses. Once they’re out in the open, Castiel slips to the floor and stays low, sliding down the center of the boat to the little stairs that lead to the door and under the covered front. He leans against Dean’s legs while he stands at the wheel, turning it toward the open sea.

Dean doesn’t need instructions on how far to go – not that Castiel would be able to give them. The surface is so different from finding his way by the ocean floor. Instead, Dean uses a map on a screen that shows him to the same point where they first found each other again. When the boat stops, Dean presses another little button that makes something whirr and clink loudly under them.

“The anchor.” Dean explains without being asked, sitting down next to him and immediately putting an arm around his shoulders.

Castiel needs little assistance or even a request to pulls himself into Dean’s lap, tail curling tightly around his waist as he presses his face against his neck. There shouldn’t be any need for either of them to be melancholy over this. It’s not like this is a goodbye – not completely. But he doesn’t want to let go, not when it still feels like they only found each other again yesterday.

“I can stay here, if you want.” Dean says after a few minutes of silence. “There’s food and a place to sleep and everything inside. I can radio to the island and let them know that I’m out here doing some relaxation bullshit to help inspire me to write and ask them not to bother me and I can wait right here.”

 _(I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t know how long the council is going to take.)_ He shakes his head and tightens his arms around Dean’s chest. _(And you have your writing to work on. You have to finish the second book before I’ve learned to read. I’ll want to read it as soon as I’m finished the first.)_

Dean’s chest shakes with a laugh, little breaths getting huffed against his side-fan. “I’ll be done long before that, Cas. My muse came back to me and I’ve been scribbling down notes all week when you weren’t paying attention.”

Castiel frowns and pulls back. _(Why didn’t you want me to know?)_

“Because you could have mind-spied on me while I was writing it and that would have spoiled the second book for you.”

_(But I already know what the second book is going to be about.)_

“Oh?” Dean grins and leans forward until their foreheads are touching. “Then let me tell you something you don’t know. You’re going to go down there and tell the colony and the council everything – about me, about us. You’re going to convince them to give me and chance and they’re going to talk about it and decide what’s best for the colony.”

_(I already knew that.)_

“I’m not done.” Dean tugs lightly at the adipose folded at his hip as a reprimand even though it’s a searing warmth that soaks through the kin-connection, lined heavily with that firm resolution from before . “And all of that is going to be done in the next three days.”

Castiel answers with his own hard won warmth and confusion. _(Why three days?)_

 

“If you’re not home seventy-two hours from now, then I’m going to come right back to this spot and drop anchor. I’m going to play our song nonstop until someone comes to stop me and it damn well better be you. I waited three years to get you back, what’s three more days?”


	49. To The Colony Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memory adds to Dean’s character. If the colony and the council can see that Dean went to all these lengths and troubles to be with Castiel, but is willing to give him up for their sakes, maybe it will help to sway them in their decision. He can only hope to have the outcome that he includes in the memory to be the same as what they choose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people:  
> wimey, pappcave, littlearchangelthatcould, practicemakesprogress, deadpai, hello-adaro, sparkyvanarky, ilikethewayyousoundinthemorning, kirbyhasapencil, saifandpie, gatoishwary, sokuter, fuckthepizzaman, and artcicles.
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> **Sorry for the delay. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter (before the epilogue) until I realized that it would end up closer to 30 pages. There's still another chapter to go and hopefully I don't get so depressed having to write it that it'll take me longer to finish it like it did this one.**

Three days. It’s another time limit to their relationship, but this is one that Castiel welcomes fully. This one is entirely different. It doesn’t state when they will be separated, but rather when they will be together again. A burst of warmth washes through the kin-connection like a tidal wave, stemming from the place deep inside Castiel where until only a few days ago he felt numb and empty. He wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and presses kiss after to kiss to his lips.

Dean leans back against the wall and even with bright-pearl dipping to toward the horizon, neither of them are in a rush to let go. The kisses burn in the best way and Castiel fills himself with him. He knows that the deep will be cold and at least now he has a whole week of new memories to warm himself with when he goes to sleep.

It is very reluctantly that Dean gathers Castiel in his arms and struggles to get to his feet without dropping him. Castiel does nothing to help aside from keeping tightly wrapped around him. He knows he has to go home and there’s so much to sort out with them, so much _unknown_ and he can’t predict what they’re going to do or say. It worries him and he’s not ready to go yet. There’s still that _fear_ that curls tighter around his heart with every step Dean takes to the short swim-deck at the back of the boat.

What if none of this was real? What if going to the deep again is what wakes him and it was just a long, delirious dream? What if it _is_ real and he comes back and Dean is gone?

That thought makes him curl his tail tighter around Dean’s waist and press his face against his neck. He can’t let go if that might happen. He _can’t_. Not again.

Castiel only holds on tighter when Dean steps over the low wall that separates the swim-deck from the rest of the boat. Even if they’ve been preparing for this moment all day, he still doesn’t want to let go. Bright-pearl hasn’t set yet. They can still stay together for a little while longer, can’t they? The colony won’t mind as long as he’s back before they go to sleep. The council can meet in the morning and he can stay with Dean just a little longer.

He’s not expecting Dean to walk right off the edge of the swim-deck. One moment they’re standing and the next they’re in the water. Castiel automatically gasps, inhaling water and choking for the few seconds it takes for his gills to start working. Dean surfaces for air the moment he uncurls from around him, and Castiel follows. The amusement rolling through the kin-connection precedes Dean’s wide grin.

 _(Why did you do that?)_ Castiel tilts his head. He’d frown, but it’s nearly impossible for him to do that when Dean is in the water with him.

Dean shrugs and ducks on the water, kicking past Castiel’s tail and tugging at one of his adipose-fins. _(Because I felt like getting in one last swim with you before you go deep.)_

There is no part of that statement that Castiel would argue and he’s more than happy to swim circles around Dean. They chase each other, switching who does the chasing whenever one of them catches the other. Castiel could easily out swim and out maneuver Dean in the water, but he only stays out of reach for a few minutes at a time – until Dean’s frustration starts to line the edges of the kin-connection. And he purposefully lets Dean escape his multiple attempts. Dean is fully aware of what he’s doing and the appreciation that curls through their link adds to the pool of warmth in Castiel’s chest.

Bright-pearl is only a few finger-widths from the horizon when Dean has tired himself out. Castiel helps him back onto the swim-deck  and Dean sits with his feet in the water, doubled over with his hands curved to Castiel’s jaw to kiss him. It’s slow and long and Castiel’s tail whips back and forth under the water to raise him up enough to press into it.

 _(Just – wait right here.)_ Dean drags the thought almost lazily through the kin-connection as he slowly pulls away from the kiss. _(You can’t leave without your belt.)_

Castiel had completely forgotten about his weapons and he quietly chastises himself for it while Dean gets them. Dean hands them to him over the side of the boat and he catches Castiel’s wrist the moment they’re out of his hand. There’s something almost like fear twisting around the edges of Dean’s thoughts and Castiel can’t read the emotions on his face – they’re too fleeting, like he’s fighting to keep them from showing.

There’s a question pushing at the boundaries of Dean’s mind. Castiel can feel it brewing, waiting to be asked but Dean is holding it back. He thinks he knows what it is and it almost makes Castiel smile. His fear is that Dean won’t be there when he comes back. Dean’s fear is that he won’t return. They’re mirroring each other and it fuels the warmth churning in his chest.

 _(Three days.)_ Castiel reminds him and Dean relaxes slightly.

“Yeah.” He mumbles, letting Castiel’s wrist slide from his hand slowly. “If they give you the choice and it’s better for them that you stay, you pick your family and find some way to let me know, okay? But if they’re not going to give you that – if they make the decision for you and you’re not back in three days. They’ll have to deal with me.”

He can’t help the small, short laugh that bubbles out of his throat and Castiel beats his tail hard to rise up high enough for one kiss before he slips back under again. _(I’ll come home soon.)_

Dean’s joy flares so brightly through the kin-connection that in nearly blinds Castiel as he twists to dive. At any other time, with anyone else, he would wait for them to leave before swimming away. He can’t do that now and not with Dean, not ever again. Castiel can’t stand watching Dean leave him alone in the sea as he’s taken away by a boat. Instead, he fills the kin-connection with warmth as he follows the anchor down. Dean answers with the same feeling that he doesn’t put into words, not that Castiel needs them to know how he feels.

Neither of them wants to break the kin-connection, but Castiel doesn’t like the feeling of it snapping from distance. He releases it slowly, one channel at a time until there’s nothing left and Dean’s presence in his mind is just a sensation, quickly fading. He moves away from the anchor when the chain starts to move, recalling the hook from the deep.

Castiel puts the belt around his waist while he swims. His glow returns to him in full force before he’s passed completely into the dark. He refuses to look over his shoulder and watch the dark shape of the boat move away. The farther he gets from Dean, the heavier the weight that settles in his chest and the tighter that coil of fear around his heart gets. It takes most of his will power not to turn around.

Rather than pay attention to where he is or how long it takes him to reach the colony, Castiel spends his swim thinking about what he’s going to say to the council. He wishes there was anything in his argument where his relationship with Dean would better the colony. But he can’t think of anything beyond that Dean has knowledge and access to information about the things that humans have that might help them find the colony. If they knew what things the humans have, they could devise plans to avoid detection. If Dean is willing – and Castiel is certain that he is – then he and his friends and family that know about Castiel and the colony could keep their eyes and ears open for any information that might put the colony or their species at risk.

It’s a powerful point, but it’s also the only point that he has that isn’t based upon how he feels for Dean. Everything else can be summed up with ‘because I love him’ and even if that melts a few hearts, he doubts that it would be enough to sway the whole council – especially Raphael. And he can’t count on his brothers siding with him on this now. They may fight to keep him from being executed to save the colony, but fighting for his _life_ is leagues different than fighting for his _love_.

When he finds himself surrounded by sentries long before he’s gone deep enough, Castiel is surprised until he remembers that they had decided to place sentries closer to the surface. He recognizes each of them and he knows their names, but he doesn’t have a personal relationship with any of them. Two are dispatched to escort him back to the colony and one is sent to swim ahead of them with the message of his return.

There are far more kin gathered at the edge of the trench than Castiel expected when they finally come within sight of it. He forces himself not to react outwardly, even though there’s an increase in his heart rate. It’s almost like his return to the colony the first time, only it’s not joy and excitement that meets him. He joins with the colony’s kin-connection easily but he blocks his mind from the mass emotions in it. There are some things he just doesn’t want to feel and whether or not they accept him and his relationship with Dean is not one of those things.

Anna is, once again, the first of his family to find him. She doesn’t slow down before she crashes into him, arms circling him in a tight hug. Her excitement and joy at his return springs brightly through the kin-connection and hers is one of the few minds he doesn’t block.

 _(How was it? I want to know all the details!)_ Anna pulls away as quickly as she had approached, her glow nearly blinding. _(Tell me everything!)_ She goes still, her wide eyes focused on his chest before her grin turns into a frown. Castiel lets her push at his shoulder, baring himself to her inspection. _(What are these? Why do you have so many bruises?)_

 _(Later.)_ Castiel promises, taking her hands and kissing her fingers in a homage to the last time he returned. _(I have the feeling we’re not going to have the time for that now.)_

Her frown is more pronounced than he would have expected. _(If he hurt you, I’ll go find him myself.)_

He can’t help his smile or the amusement that blazes through the kin-connection. _(No, Anna, he didn’t hurt me. I’ll tell you later, I promise. Tell me about the council.)_

She narrows her eyes at him before huffing and twisting away, leading the way to the auditorium. _(They’ve been waiting for you all day and Raphael threw a fit whenever anyone tried to leave. Metatron is getting grumpy and I have no idea why Michael is putting up with any of it.)_

_(What about Lucifer? Gabriel?)_

_(Lucifer looks like he’s on the verge of clawing Raphael’s face off. They’ve been at odds this whole rotation since you left. It doesn’t help that Raphael has been – well, he’s been himself.)_ She shrugs and slows for him to catch up. _(And Gabriel has spent half the day napping while sitting up.)_

Castiel muffles a laugh behind his lips. Of course he has. _(Has anything happened while I was gone?)_

Anna shakes her head and it’s nearly a pout that pulls at her lips in the orange light of her glow. _(It’s so boring, little one. I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. Let me live vicariously through you. Tell me all about what happened with Dean.)_ Her pout turns into a grin and she swims close enough to bump his shoulder with hers. _(Did you at least kiss him?)_

His side-fans flare in surprise and he doesn’t even manage to stutter an answer before she’s rolling away, adipose-fins rippling with delight as she laughs. _(I knew it! I knew it! You did! Gabriel owes me that blue shine-stone he’s had for ages!)_

 _(If they did more than that, then you owe me three necklaces.)_ Balthazar announces his arrival as he drops into the space between them. They don’t stop for a hug and he touches Castiel’s shoulder in greeting. _(I would have met you at the lip, but I was on sentry and had to wait for someone to come relieve me. Welcome back.)_

Castiel touches his mind with understanding, smiling at him softly. _(Thank you. It’s nice to know you were all betting on me.)_ He doesn’t hide the sarcasm and it sends both Anna and Balthazar into more laughter. _(What do you want Anna’s necklaces for?)_

 _(To woo the ladies, Cas. Not all of us are as attached as you.)_ Balthazar swims closer and he does something suggestive with his eyebrows. It something that Castiel has always hated and he likes it even less when it’s to reference his relationship with Dean. _(Tell us the dirty details before you’re distracted with convincing the council your two-tails isn’t out to kill us all.)_

_(There are no dirty details.)_

They call him a liar, their voices in sync in his head as Anna takes up the empty space on his left. She twists her tail to slap at his and Castiel rolls his eyes, silently wishing that they could speed up and get to the auditorium so he doesn’t have to deal with them anymore. As much as he missed them and loves them, he’s not comfortable telling anyone the things that he did with Dean. He never went into detail with them before and he doesn’t plan on doing it now.

 _(We have a lot of things riding on this, Cas.)_ Anna tries to sound serious, but the amusement lining her words and the smile on her face makes it very hard to believe her. _(Also I want to prove I know you better than he does.)_

 _(No one in this colony knows him better than I do.)_ Balthazar snaps back, his back-fan flaring sharply. _(After six seasons of abstinence, I don’t think it’s possible that he_ wouldn’t _pin his two-tails to the nearest surface and –)_

Castiel pulls at the kin-connection between them. He doesn’t say anything, but he does fill it with disapproval and gives him a dark glare. _(And if you’re wrong, what does Anna get?)_

Anna makes a sharp noise that could be a laugh but it sounds more like a crow of victory. _(Who knows him_ now _, huh, Balthazar? Yes, that shell is_ mine _!)_

With the auditorium in sight, Castiel makes a calculated decision. _(And what happens if I didn’t have sex with him, but I_ did _touch him?)_

The question brings them both up short and Castiel beats his tail hard enough to power past them quickly, putting distance between them before they can gather their senses and follow hip with a flare of surprise and outrage. By the time they catch up to him, Castiel is already passing into the auditorium. Half the colony is already gathered and the rest are filling the stages as they arrive, having followed Castiel from the trench edge. The council is already seated on their columns and Castiel doesn’t need his echoes or their glows to know that half of them aren’t happy. He settles on the stone dais at the center of the auditorium and he waits.

Nothing starts until the colony is settled on the stages. Anna and Balthazar begrudgingly find places to rest on the stages too after a single gesture from Michael and a silent flicker of command in the kin-connection directs them to leave Castiel alone. In the time that it takes for them to settle, Castiel gathers his memories of everything he learned from Dean in the last several days. He organizes them chronologically and he omits anything that is purely about their relationship. Unless Gabriel gets nosey, the council isn’t going to want to know anything about that.

He has to force himself to hold still under the weight of the hundreds of eyes on him. Even with the colony blocked from his mind, Castiel can feel their judgment. Good or bad, he doesn’t want to know the specifics. But it still feels like they’re pressing in on him, making his ribs squeeze tight and each breath through his gills is getting progressively harder to take.

It’s actually a relief when Michael swims forward off his column to begin the meeting. It’s so late in the day that Castiel doesn’t expect it to go long. He might have enough time to give over all his memories and the information. But by the time he’s done, it’s likely that they’ll all be dismissed and the council will sleep on what they’ve learned before they reconvene in the morning to discuss. There’s every chance that he’s going to be isolated to his sleep-shelf again while they’re in session, and Castiel is going to hate every moment of it – even if Anna and Balthazar visit him.

Castiel opens his mind to Michael’s voice, the voices of the council, and he bridges his mind to the two fang-fin present as emissaries of their colony. But he blocks all their emotions. He doesn’t need to feel Raphael’s anger or Metatron’s boredom. Michael’s speech starts with reminding the colony about what happened a rotation ago and why Castiel was exiled. He reminds them about how, for six seasons, Castiel kept from them all the information about his relationship with one of the two-tails – a relationship that went to the extent that Castiel sang him the _bonding song_.

There are vocal murmurs filling the auditorium and Castiel ignores them. He forces himself not to react physically, his fans and fins not flaring or flattening. To the rest of the colony, he looks unaffected and that’s good. He can’t show them that he’s ashamed, or afraid. Castiel is _proud_ to think of Dean as his mate and when he returns to him, he’ll make sure everyone knows.

Michael finishes with explaining that for the last rotation, he’s been in the company of the two-tails and he will be telling the colony what he learned. Half of his message is for Castiel’s benefit as he details exactly what the council wants to know. Unsurprisingly, all they’re interested in is _why_ Dean is back and what effect his presence will have on their safety.

He waits for Michael to sit back on his column, his tail wrapped around it to hold him in place. Castiel folds his hands in his lap and the moment that he’s given the signal to proceed, he fills the kin-connection with every emotion he felt when he first heard his bonding song in the waters of the trench. From the heartache to the nervous excitement when he heard Dean’s guitar intertwined with his voice, to the delirious, heart stopping moment when he saw Dean again.

Castiel includes every moment that he thought about the colony’s safety first and how he left the speaker on the back of the boat rather than talk to them. He explains how he was going to come back until Dean had jumped into the water himself and the visceral reaction he had to Raphael’s threat against Dean. Even though he omits exactly _what_ they were, he includes the detail of Sam providing directions to where he should go. From there, he skips the return to the colony and the decision for his exile, going straight to when he entered the cove to seeing them all again.

His hand moves from his lap to his throat, fingers closing around the pendant gently floating against his collarbone as he goes over that night and every emotion he felt. He knows that his feelings aren’t what the council or the colony wants to know, but if they can understand him and the heat that burns in his chest when he thinks of Dean, maybe their decisions will be more lenient toward him.

No one interrupts him as he goes day by day. The shocked murmurs that occur when he shares the images of Dean’s tattoos is smugly satisfying and he hides that emotion from the kin-connection as he gives them everything except the moments when he and Dean kissed or touched one another. When it becomes obvious that there was nothing else to be learned about Dean’s motivations for the colony after the first few days, Raphael raises his hand to cut him off.

 _(With all due respect, I’m not done.)_ Castiel looks up at him coldly, barely managing to hide his flare of contempt for him.

He’s never cared for Raphael and his jealousy that Michael agreed to take on the role of council leader when their father passed rather than let it go to one of his brothers or a member of the council. And he especially didn’t like how Raphael had vehemently disagreed when Michael proposed that Lucifer and Gabriel be accepted into the council when two previous members wanted to resign. They were both older females who had served on the council for more seasons than Castiel had been alive and no one else was particularly interested.

Raphael said that the council would be unbalanced because they were all brothers. Even though he was fully aware that Lucifer and Michael rarely share the same opinions and even if they are close, they know duty comes before family. And Gabriel’s neutrality towards almost everything was well known within the colony. Michael simply wanted the council to be staffed by colony-kin that he trusted and since so few had offered their names, it was logical that he pick the siblings he’s known and who’s opinions may have differed from his own over the season, but they were at least opinions he trusted.

Gabriel barely smothers his laugh at Castiel’s daring, but at least it takes the heat of Raphael’s glare off of him. Castiel centers himself and opens his memories to the colony again. He starts his recollection with last night and the bonding song, when Dean played it back to him with his guitar. Everything that Dean shared with him – the acceptance, the warmth, the willingness to carrying any and all marks Castiel wants to leave on his body – he holds none of it back from the colony.

If there is a reaction to those memories, he doesn’t hear it. Everyone is blocked from his mind at this point. Their reactions would only distract him as he continues. This time he skips straight to one of his memories of earlier today, to when he and Dean were sitting in their bed. It’s the memory of when Dean told him if it comes to deciding to be with him and the colony being forced to move and choosing his family, then they can’t be selfish.

The memory adds to Dean’s character. If the colony and the council can see that Dean went to all these lengths and troubles to be with Castiel, but is willing to give him up for their sakes, maybe it will help to sway them in their decision. He can only hope to have the outcome that he includes in the memory to be the same as what they choose.

Thankfully, Raphael doesn’t try to stop him as Castiel skims through the rest of the day, focusing on the emotions he felt throughout it. Specifically, he shares the ache in his chest at having to leave Dean again and the anxiety that fills him when he thinks that they might not let him return. The last thing he shares with the colony, aside from getting to swim with Dean one last time and the same fear they both have, is the time limit Dean gives to the council. Three days.

That causes a stir amongst both the council and the many fin-kin sitting on the stages around the auditorium. He doesn’t wait for them to stop, forging onward with his own opinion regarding how his relationship with Dean could be a benefit to the safety of their species. He includes the fang-fin colony when he speaks of it, nodding to the emissaries who sit on the stage that had been carved out especially for them when the peace treaty was made. The information that Dean gives them regarding what abilities humans have could benefit not just the bright-fins, but the fang-fin and any other fin-kin colony out there if they ever should meet them.

Reliving the memories and sharing them with _everyone_ while sitting so tensely is tiring and he can’t help slumping in his seat, head bowed and waiting for whatever judgment the council will decide tonight.

When the murmuring in the water and the ghosts of private conversations stop drifting along the edges of the kin-connection, Castiel lifts his head again. Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphael and Metatron are just returning to their columns – meaning they were gathered around Michael’s seat while they talked. He squeezes the pendant again, forcing himself to remain calm as Michael uncurls slowly from around his column. Rather than stay level with the peak of his seat, Michael dives down toward the dais and Castiel barely manages to stop his fins and fans from flaring in surprise.

At the same time, Raphael swims out and addresses the colony. Castiel ignores his words, blocking him from the kin-connection as he focuses on Michael as he stops to float before home. Even though he’s known him his whole life, it’s only since Michael took the position of council leader that Castiel started to find him intimidating. It has nothing to do with the power he wields, and all to do with the ornamental scars that took more than a year and countless hours of pain to carve repeatedly into his stomach, chest, arms and even his forehead, until they stopped healing without scarring. Being the council leader is a difficult task because you hold the fate of the colony in your hands. You have to be strong in mind and in body, and Michael is the epitome of that.

He starts with a warm smile and a flick of the end of his tail against Castiel’s. _(It’s good to have you back. Deciding to exile you was one of the hardest decisions I’ve had to make since I took to the council.)_

Castiel dips his head and returns the touch. _(It was the proper one. You can’t make exceptions for me just because I’m your brother.)_

 _(Raphael seems keen to remind us of that at every given opportunity.)_ Michael rolls his eyes, tilting his head to gesture up and over his shoulder. His smile falls slightly when he looks back to Castiel. _(This matter requires more discussion and with rested minds. In light of the situation, we’ve decided that you’re to sleep in the healers’ caves where you will be guarded at all times.)_

Something cold settles in Castiel’s stomach, spreading up into his chest. It’s like his blood is turning to the floating-glass ice he once touched. Michael reaches out to take his hands. _(I’m going to respect your two-tails’ wish and we will have an answer for you both within three days. But I cannot promise you that it will be the one that you want.)_

The ice is spreading into his throat and it hurts to swallow before he nods his understanding. Michael tries for a soft smile as he pulls him from the dais. _(You will be allowed visitors and I’m going to encourage that anyone who is uncertain about supporting you or speaking against you should come and listen to your story again.)_

Castiel nods, fingers numb and fumbling as he removes his belt and his weapons to hand them over, watching as Michael wraps it around his own waist and cinches it by his instructions. He’ll take care of it for him. Michael takes his hand again and leads him from the auditorium. Now he is playing as both Castiel’s brother in his actions and the leader of the council in his words.

_(Lucifer, Gabriel and I cannot be your brothers during the discussion. We’re going to be putting aside our familial relationships and looking at this without our feelings for you. The safety of the colony depends on the balance of our judgment and we can’t play favourites simply because you are our brother.)_

It’s all things he’s heard before. The same kind of lecture that he, Anna and Balthazar each time their siblings were accepted onto the council. He doesn’t doubt that their attachment to him as family has likely already coloured their decisions in the past. Not only did he lie to the entire colony about his relationship with Dean, but it was something that could have put everyone in danger and it deserved a harsher punishment than one rotation of exile – even if the exile was purely for informative purposes.

Michael takes Castiel to the healers’ caves. They’re at the same level of the trench as the nesting shelves and most fin-kin would be at least slightly uncomfortable – more so over a longer period of time – being this far down and so close to the volcanic vent, even if the vent is still a decent distance away. Castiel doesn’t mind. It’s nothing compared to the heat of Dean’s body.

Once they’re inside the small network of caves that belong to the healers’, Michael leads him past all the little alcoves where individual fin-kin can rest while they’re healing. He takes him to the very back of the network, where the healers’ keep mix and store their medicines and the ingredients. None of the healers stop them and Castiel suspects it’s more to the fact that the news has already spread, than to the fact that very few people speak out against Michael.

 _(You’ll stay back here and help where you’re needed. They’ll provide you an alcove when you have visitors.)_ Michael lets go of his hand and directs him to a corner of the storage room. _(Someone will bring you food at meal times, and - knowing them - it will likely be Anna or Balthazar. Is there anything that we can get you right now?)_

Castiel shakes his head and settles on the floor. He lays on his side and curls his tail up to tuck the end under his head as a pillow. _(I would just like to rest now. Thank you, Michael.)_

He’s not expected the gentle hand in his hair or the fond name Michael has never used for him. _(I will do what I can, little one. You deserve that much for all you’ve done for the colony. But I have to do what is best for everyone.)_

 _(I expect nothing less of you.)_ Castiel flares his side-fan to brush against Michael’s fingers. _(I have nothing left to hide from the council – unless you want the sordid details?)_

Michael actually laughs and he tweaks the end of one of the spines of his side-fan. _(Unlike our siblings, I didn’t make any bets. Of course, I am curious about your bruises. He didn’t hurt you, did he?)_

 _(Quite the opposite.)_ Castiel hides his grin by flaring his adipose-fin over his face. _(I left even more on him. They’re a kind of kiss mark and it’s to prove to others that we are together. It’s like a bite mark, but less permanent and more intimate)_

Amusement and surprise flickers through the kin-connection and Castiel shifts his adipose-fin to see Michael actually settle on the cave floor, his tail curled under him. He props himself up on his elbows and tilts his head, sending confusion into the kin-connection. Michael leans his shoulder against the wall and he shrugs.

 _(Tell me about the two-tails who managed to capture the heart of my little brother.)_ He smiles and makes a vague gesture with his hand. _(The more I know about him, the more I can bring to the discussion and the better a decision I can make.)_

_(But what about the others? Raphael will object.)_

_(Raphael can suck a squid.)_

The short retort makes Castiel’s fans flare wide before laughter bubbles up in his throat. It doesn’t take long for Michael to laugh too and the few healers who are cleaning up for the day regard them oddly. Their conversation is a private one and seeing their confusion only makes Castiel laugh harder. He hasn’t had time alone with Michael like this in far too long. At least well before the war started.

He starts at the very beginning and tells Michael all the little things that Dean has done. Dean never treated him like an animal and he was the first to actually step up and _do_ something to help him when Alistair started hurting him. He showed so much trust in Castiel from the very beginning when he got in the tank and it would have been so easy for him to take out his anger and frustrations on Dean then.

Castiel shares with Michael all the details that he never shared with the council or the colony, again omitting the more intimate ones. He shares every emotion he remembers feeling and he doesn’t hold back the warmth that infuses every memory. Michael wants to know all the little things, like the things Dean shared about his past and what he’s done. It requires trying to explain human concepts that Castiel barely grasps himself, but Michael understands in the end.

It’s Dean’s most current actions over the last week, that takes Michael’s attention the most. He leans forward, his arms folded on his tail. _(I think it would benefit us to meet him.)_

His fans flare sharply and Castiel pushes up onto his hands, bringing himself to eye level with Michael. _(With the council? I can’t do that. Raphael nearly attacked him last time. I won’t hesitate to fight him if_ anyone _threatens Dean again.)_ A warning growl rumbles low in his throat.

He hushes Castiel with a finger to his lips. _(Me, the council, Anna and Balthazar. We would all be there. Raphael would never try anything with all of us present. Especially when our family is full of highly capable warriors.)_ His words are full of an uncharacteristic pride that makes Castiel duck his head. _(That was one of the reasons we let you have your exile rather than less ideal choices, you know? You’ve worked hard for the colony over the seasons and never asked anything for yourself. You’ve been devoted to family and friends and your entire garrison looks up to you.)_

Michael uncurls slowly, stretching his tail across the floor before his adipose-fins roll to keep him floating. He reaches out and touches Castiel’s hair again. _(We were worried that you would never find happiness with another. As odd as it may be that you’ve taken to a two-tails, and a male at that, I hope our discussion in the next few days will benefit you. You deserve it. And just so you know, I say this as the council leader and not as your brother.)_

Castiel dips his head and pulses gratitude into the kin-connection. It’s one of the highest compliments that Michael can give and even though he knows that during the council’s meetings tomorrow Michael will approach the discussion with his heart closed off, it still gives him hope. He leaves shortly after that, reminding Castiel that there will be guards posted at the mouth to the cave. It doesn’t bother him. What _does_ is being confined within something again. He doesn’t mind the home he has with Dean because there he still has his freedom. But right now he’s more or less locked in another cage and he _hates_ it.

Sleep comes surprisingly easy for him that night, curled in a corner of the cave with his hand around Dean’s pendant. It seems too soon when Anna is shaking him awake and she and Balthazar are there with his breakfast. They’re both so full of questions and Castiel settles back with the woven basket full of clams and the fish that they brought him, answering as best as he can. Of course both of them are well aware that Michael was here much longer than he was supposed to be the night before and he tells them everything.

There really is nothing for him to hide anymore. His only secret was his relationship with Dean and now that it is out in the open and common knowledge, it’s like a weight off his shoulders. It’s easier to breathe and smile and he’s not sure if it’s simply because they know, or because he got to see Dean, or that it only took a few days for him to fall in love with Dean all over again.

When he mentions that Michael wants them all to meet Dean, Anna and Balthazar are nearly ecstatic and immediately start planning what question they’re going to ask and the things they’re going to do. Castiel only interrupts when they start talking about pranks and things they could to do get a rise out of Dean. He draws the line at anyone playing games like that with him.

They stay with him, making jokes and telling stories, until Castiel is called back to the auditorium. To everyone’s surprise, the messenger arrives not long before Anna would have left to get them something to eat for supper. Even though worry lines their thoughts, they both assure Castiel that it means nothing that they’re summoning him so soon. It could be entirely because of Dean’s three days rule, or it could be a hundred other reasons.

The stages are empty when Castiel arrives with his siblings. Rather than being gathered on their columns, the council is grouped around the dais with the emissaries from the fang-fin colony. Castiel isn’t sure if this is a good sign or not. Balthazar brushes against him and flashes a brief image of Gabriel through the kin-connection.

Gabriel looks smug. Whenever Gabriel looks smug it means someone else is suffering. There are at least two fin-kin present who’s suffering would make Gabriel grin like that around the shell of one of his sweet-snails. Sure enough, Raphael looks murderous and Metatron looks uncomfortable. Lucifer wastes no time with any form of preamble. He doesn’t look as unhappy as Raphael or Metatron, but he certainly doesn’t look pleased.

_(We want to meet him. Then and only then will be finalize our decision.)_

Castiel doesn’t want to hope that from their expressions and their request that it means good things for him. He can’t bear having his hopes raised like that only to have them be broken. Anna is the one who asks how that’s to happen and Lucifer’s adipose-fins ripple with warning, his glow brightening before Michael looks at him sharply.

 _(Meeting a two-tails is unheard of.)_ Lucifer glares back and Castiel’s heart sinks to somewhere in his stomach. _(I can’t believe you’re even considering this. It’s bad enough that Castiel was seen, now you want to show_ more _of us.)_

He hadn’t expected for all his brothers to support him, but he had almost entirely forgotten Lucifer’s dislike for humans. They’ve never done anything to Lucifer directly, but the stories and legends they were raised on, the trap that had nearly caught Balthazar, and the fact that Castiel _was_ captured have done nothing to help his opinion of them.

 _(To see if he is trustworthy.)_ Michael reminds him calmly. _(If your two-tails is willing, Castiel, I want to look into his mind myself. Lucifer and Raphael have declined, but it is possible that Metatron and Gabriel will look themselves.)_

Castiel’s hand twitches with the urge to pinch and roll his adipose-fins or to squeeze the pendant around his throat. He forces it to remain at his side. _(I can’t guarantee that Dean will do it, but I can ask him. He’s never had the kin-connection with anyone but myself and never more than one mind at a time. I’m not even sure that it’s possible for a human mind to maintain more than on link.)_

 _(We’ll just have to give it a go and see if we break his brain or not.)_ Gabriel spits out his shell and grins. _(And the fang-fin don’t exactly want to talk to him, not that they can without one of us translating, but they do want to see him.)_ He gestures at the male and female floating silently behind them.

They never say much during moments like this, but they’re only hear to speak for their colony when matters arise that concern their safety as well. It’s not surprising to Castiel that the fang-fin colony would send some of their biggest members. Fang-fin are already naturally larger than bright-fin – they’re longer, and their shoulders are wider, and they’re just generally _bigger_ in all aspects. If Castiel hadn’t spent so many seasons killing them and hunting creatures bigger than them, he would likely be daunted by their size. He know Dean might be.

Castiel nods. _(He’s on an island past the light-beds. If I swim my fastest, I can be there by the time bright-pearl sets and return with him here in the morning.)_

Metatron makes a noise in his throat. _(You’re not going alone.)_

_(Who would come with me?)_

Anna and Balthazar both raise their hands without hesitation and Gabriel snorts laughter before he pulls another sweet-snail from the bag around his waist. _(There you have it. They’ll go with him to make sure he and this ‘Dean’ return in the morning. Then we can have this little head to head and put all this boring business to rest.)_

 _(You shouldn’t be so cavalier with this decision.)_ Lucifer bares his teeth as Gabriel rolls his eyes. _(It’s not just the safety of our colony or the fang-fins here. It’s the safety of every colony scattered throughout mother-sea. I’m sorry, Castiel, but this is about more than just you and your feelings for a two-tails.)_

 _(I understand.)_ And he does. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to completely give up hope. _(Will I be getting my weapons back before we leave?)_ He looks pointedly at the belt with his sword and dagger still attached to it laying on the dais between them.

Michael nods and gestures for him to take it. _(We want you all back before midday.)_

Castiel barely even looks as he puts the belt on. _(We will be. Thank you.)_ He bows his head to the fang-fin emissaries and to the council before he turns and swims away, Anna and Balthazar following closely behind him. _(Is there anything either of you need?)_

They stop at Anna’s shelf for her to leave her necklace tucked away in the corner and to grab her weapons. Balthazar does the same at his shelf a few rows down and they leave, the sentries already aware of their orders. Castiel sets a fast pace, excited to return to Dean so soon. There is a nervous twist in his belly at finally getting to introduce Dean to his siblings, but even that does nothing to slow him.

He doesn’t really participate in the conversation being held while they swim. Anna keeps glancing at Balthazar more frequently the farther they get from the colony. _(I thought you didn’t like going to the islands after what happened with the fake-cave.)_

 _(I don’t like going to the_ light-beds _.)_ Balthazar corrects her. _(I can go to the kelp forest just fine, and the border patrols go fairly close to the islands. It’s the light-beds I don’t trust.)_

A few times during their swim, Castiel heads to the surface to orient himself before returning to where Anna and Balthazar wait for him. They hunt their dinners along the way. When they reach the familiar sloping edge of the islands, Castiel’s increases their speed, his echoes bouncing back from the cliff walls as he searches for the crack that will lead into the cove. His excitement mingles with the anticipation both Anna and Balthazar share, but Castiel is also trying hard to ignore that small curl of anxiety around his heart. It’s only been a day, but he’ll find out soon whether or not Dean really will still be here.

 _(You can’t be serious.)_ Balthazar groans when Castiel picks out the tunnel they’ll have to squeeze through. _(I don’t like tight spaces.)_ After the fake-cave, who could really blame him?

Anna squeezes his shoulder. _(What if Castiel goes first and then me? Once we’re both on the other side then you’ll know that we can get through no problem and you can come through after.)_

 _(As long as you both stay in my head.)_ Even if he seems okay with the plan, Balthazar’s adipose-fins are rippling more than is necessary to keep him floating in place and his side-fans keep flicking nervously.

 _(Perhaps you should come through after me?)_ Castiel suggestions as he drifts toward the tunnel. _(That way, Anna will be able to help you from behind if you need it.)_

 _(Just go.)_ Balthazar makes a flippant gesture and Castiel shares a meaningful glance with Anna before he starts his way through.

It’s as tight a squeeze and annoying to wiggle through as it was before. Castiel makes a mental note to learn from the miners how to safely shape the walls of the caves where they mine. If he can, he’d like to smooth out the edges of this tunnel and hopefully widen them a bit. Maybe one of the miners will have to come out with him and check to make sure the tunnel is safe for that first.

He can barely hold still while he waits for Balthazar to worm his way through the tunnel, Anna following after him. It takes so much of his willpower not to swim to the surface and check to see if there are lights on in the house. Again he’s faced with the decision of how to let Dean know that he’s here. He could simply brush the kin-connection through the house until he finds Dean’s mind, or he could raise his voice above the waters and sing, or he could pull himself onto the dock and climb the stairs.

And there’s still the problem of having Anna and Balthazar with him. Neither one of them has ever breathed with anything but their gills before and he’s not sure if they’re willing to try that before or after they meet Dean. Or what if Dean has visitors? Castiel can’t just show reveal his presence without knowing that. It seems like the best option is to check with the kin-connection first – even if it means ignoring that small part of him that wants to be dramatic.

 _(Well? Are we going to go see your two-tails or what?)_ Balthazar nudges his shoulder once Anna is through too.

Castiel nods and angles toward the house and the surface. Bright-pearl is setting beyond the edges of the cove and the stars already fill the sky. That distracts both his siblings when they break the surface, too focused on look up to notice when he seals his gills and coughs the water from his lungs. They keep ducking down to suck in breaths to breathe through their gills, but their eyes are wide and turned to steady-blue. He takes a few moments to explain to him what the lights are. He’s not sure if they grasp the actual concept – even he has trouble with it – but at least they know what to call them.

Relief floods through him when he looks up at the house and sees the windows of what he believes to be the couch-room lit up from inside. The fear around his heart loosens slightly and Castiel concentrates, pushing his reach out into the house and searching for how many minds are inside. There’s only one and it gives to the kin-connection immediately, filling his head with surprise, joy, relief and so much warmth that it overflows into the links he shares with Anna and Balthazar. Their surprised gasps are vindicating. Even if he shared memories of Dean’s emotions, it’s not quite the same as feeling it in person.

He’s expecting Dean to come out onto the deck and take the stairs to the dock. What he isn’t expecting is Dean to dart out onto the deck and jump the railing. He’s fully clothed in his grey pants and a shirt with short sleeves and he crashes into the water with much the same splash as he did earlier this week. Castiel disregards his siblings’ surprise as he darts away from them to circle happily around Dean as he flounders to orient himself and surface.

 _(You’re back!)_ Dean grins at him, blinking the water from his eyes as he reaches out and catches his arm to pull him in close.

Castiel wraps around Dean and the heat searing through his clothes. He can’t curl his tail around his legs without them sinking together, but Dean’s arms find their way around his shoulders as Castiel’s arms circle his waist, his adipose-fins rolling to keep them both floating as he Dean kisses him with more force than he was expecting, the warmth and his joy folding around his name in a cacophony of noise through the kin-connection.

_(Must he really do that when we’re right here?)_

_(Shut up, Balthazar. He’s in love, let them have their moment.)_

_(He’s breathing air, Anna. That’s not natural.)_

_(If he_ can _do it, then it_ is _natural.)_

_(Technicalities.)_

He winces and reluctantly pulls away from the very distracting kisses. In his excitement at seeing Dean again, despite having seen yesterday, he had forgotten about his siblings. Confusion echoes along the edges of the kin-connection as he shifts in Dean’s arms, pushing him back slightly.

_(I didn’t come back alone.)_

That gets Dean’s attention and he immediately looks around the cove. His surprise flares sharply through the kin-connection when he spots Anna and Balthazar’s watery glows. They’re both floating just outside the ring of light from the windows of the house and when Castiel looks too, he wants to chastise them from purposefully dimming their glows so Dean wouldn’t notice them right away. Castiel sighs and gestures for them to come closer. He refuses to leaves Dean’s side and he knows it’s easier for Dean to remain floating while he’s holding onto him.

Anna and Balthazar swim closer, they’re glows brightening. It’s only their eyes peeking above the water and something nervous twists through Dean’s thoughts. He glances once at Castiel, a helpless little look that doesn’t need the _(What do I do?)_ in the kin-connection for him to read it.

 _(Dude, your sister is_ naked _.)_

Castiel’s huff of laughter causes both of his siblings’ side-fans to flare in surprise. He shakes his head and gestures at them, broadcasting his thoughts to all the links. _(Dean, this is Anna and Balthazar. They’ve come to make sure that we return tomorrow morning.)_

“Hi.” Dean raises one hand out of the water to twist his wrist in a small wave before more surprise streaks his thoughts and he looks back at Castiel. _(Wait, run that by me again. What’s happening tomorrow morning?)_

 _(Michael and the council want to meet you tomorrow. They want to make the kin-connection with you and see for themselves if we can trust you.)_ Castiel looks between Anna and Balthazar before he looks at Dean and the dawning comprehension on his face. _(They’ll only make their decision after they get to talk to_ you _.)_


	50. There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment Dean hesitates, going still under his hands before he pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have – I should’ve checked with you first.” His voice goes quiet, soft and unsure. “Do _you_ want to do it right now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks I can possible give goes to all of you. Thank you to everyone who’s read, commented, kudos-ed, and subscribed! You’re all fantastic and I love you.
> 
> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people:  
> the-sharpie-klepto, askthesassyangelcastiel, kaesekatze, dontworrysammy, lettiebobettie, theheylinhawk, engaru, sora-la
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> **I am going to be without internet until the 10th and on vacation until the 17th. If OotD is delayed at all next week, it will be because of this. I will endeavor to have it completed, but as the majority of my time will be spent away from a computer over the next 10 days, I cannot guarantee that I'll get it done in time.**

It takes a while before they’re able to just sit and talk about what is going to happen. After introductions, then need to wait for Anna to get her curiosity over with. She circles Dean, pulling at his clothing and watching it billow in the water. Her fascination lies mostly with his legs and Castiel can’t help hissing at her, his fans flaring threateningly and his glow growing bright, when she keeps _touching_ him. Neither Balthazar nor Anna have tried to make the kin-connection with him yet, but Dean’s discomfort concerning where her hands go draws bright streaks through the link Castiel has with him.

Balthazar is more wary of going near Dean. He’s not outright hostile toward him, but Castiel can understand if he doesn’t exactly trust Dean either. Humans nearly caught him once before and even if all of Castiel’s shared memories and his stories depict that Dean is decent, that’s something that’s hard to change. Especially when taking into account that Balthazar was the first to know about how Dean hurt Castiel and he was the one to offer him comfort for a deep seated pain that he’d lived with for seasons before finally telling someone about it.

When Dean gets too cold and uncomfortable in his wet clothes, and Anna has had her fill of examining the differences between their bodies, he goes inside to change dry off and change. Castiel waits for him on the dock, the end of his tail tracing designs on the surface of the water while Balthazar and Anna take the time to explore the cove. He uses memories to show them where the sectioned off stretch of sand is against the far rock wall, in case they might have need of it.

When Dean returns, he’s wearing pants that go only to his knees, another shirt, and he has a blanket around his shoulders. Castiel uses the towel he gives him to dry himself so half the blanket can be wrapped over his shoulders when Dean sits next to him. His feet end up in the water and when Anna and Balthazar return to the dock, Castiel proudly angles his tail over Dean’s legs to show them the pattern tattooed on his skin.

Both of them are shocked, but Balthazar is impressed and the caution he has toward Dean lessens slightly. _(He must be serious if he marked himself with your pattern.)_ He reaches out to touch the dots and lines gently and Castiel has to keep himself from slapping his hand away with his tail.

Dean grins and stretches his legs out for them to see better, but Anna is more interested in his toes and feet than she is the marks. Castiel hides some of his thoughts from Dean as he focuses privately on her mind, showing her in images all the ticklish spots along the bottom of Dean’s feet. The startled bark of laughter sends Balthazar darting away and Anna’s giggles are muffled by the water.

“You ratted me out, didn’t you?” Dean accuses, bumping Castiel’s shoulder as he changes how he sits, folding and crosses his legs to form the bowl that he finds all too tempting to move into.

 _(I might have.)_ He keeps his smug smile to nothing more than a small smirk, leaning more into Dean’s side rather than sitting fully in his lap. Castiel doesn’t want to push Dean’s boundaries when it comes to how they touch one another in front of his siblings.

“I’ll get you back for that.” His threat is empty, amusement curling through the kin-connection as his arm slides around Castiel’s waist to hold him in place. “Are we going to talk about tomorrow now?”

Castiel nods, tugging at his links with Anna and Balthazar to get their attention. They both surface again, floating with the waves brushing their cheekbones. Anna is the first to reach for Dean’s mind to build the kin-connection. Dean tenses against him and surprises fills their link, but there is no pain from him. A sense of interest pulses under the waves of Dean’s thoughts as he lets Anna sift through the top most layer of his mind.

 _(She thinks differently than you.)_ He glances at Castiel, eyebrows raised.

 _(I should hope so. I’m far more sophisticated than him.)_ Anna interjects. _(Try focusing on only Castiel’s mind to narrow your thoughts to communicate solely with him if you want to speak privately. Otherwise you’re going to broadcast your thoughts to everyone. And right now there is nothing about you hidden. If I pressed just a little, I could see whatever I want. A connection that open should be reserved only for your mate.)_

She looks pointedly at Castiel and it sends a swirling tumble of joy through Castiel’s chest. Knowing that Anna accepts that he thinks of Dean as his mate is a mixture of relief, satisfaction, and more than a little of that burning warmth he feels for Dean. His love for Anna is very different from the heat of his feelings for Dean, but they both burn brightly in his chest and he shares them happily with the kin-connection.

Anna returns his feelings in kind, tilting her face out of the water more for him to see her smile before she continues her explanation to Dean. She details for him how to focus on shield the parts of his mind that he shouldn’t – or wouldn’t want – to share with everyone, protecting his thoughts from some links and not others.

Dean’s lips twist and his forehead creases while he concentrates and Castiel has to hold himself back from trying to assist. Hopefully his human mind will be able to do it. For Castiel, it’s second nature for him to filter his thoughts according to who he is closely linked to at the moment. His mind is almost always filtered from the colony’s main connection so they don’t all hear his thoughts and conversations unless it’s an announcement he has to specifically make for everyone to hear. And he’s always more shielded from friends than he would be family.

With Dean, he’s more open than he’s ever been – and likely will ever be. There are few things that he hides from him now and those are only his most private thoughts and all the _fear_ that cycles through the back of his mind, the paranoid worry that this might really be the last that he gets to be with him as they have been for the last week.

 _(Good. It’s a little weak, but you’re properly hidden from me now.)_ Anna smiles up at Dean, praise flowing through the kin-connection. _(With a little practice, you’ll get better. When Balthazar –)_ She smacks his shoulder with the back of her hand and he scowls at her. _(- finally joins with you, try and have the barriers in place before the connection is fully made. For now, practice privately speaking to Castiel.)_

His face creases with concentration again and within moments the kin-connection takes that secretive edge to it. Castiel pushes pride through it immediately, encouraging Dean to continue as it strengthens and he can feel the focus rest solely on him. Anna has no reaction to the flickering desire for a kiss and Castiel smiles, leaning over to press one against Dean’s cheek. _(Only I heard that.)_

 _(Good, it was meant for only you.)_ Dean’s grin is wide and proud as he drops the concentration, letting the kin-connection encompass his link with Anna too. _(So, is blondie here going to link up too or what?)_

 _(We’re checking to see if your mind can take multiple connections at once.)_ Castiel reaches up to touch Dean’s temple before running his hand through his hair. _(As long as a fin-kin makes the connection with you, it seems that you’re able to maintain it. But we don’t know what stress it puts on your mind.)_

Dean automatically leans into the touch. _(It doesn’t feel that different from when it’s just you. I guess it feels a little more crowded than usual? I can’t really explain it, but it doesn’t make my head hurt if that’s what you’re getting at.)_ He pauses a moment. _(Why doesn’t the kin-connection work like this when you’re connected with Sam and Jess at the same time as me?)_

_(I can’t connect minds to yours, Dean. They need to reach for you themselves. With the colony, the kin-connection is like a current flowing through the trench and we just need to reach out and join with it to be a connected to everyone.)_

Anna elbows Balthazar’s arm, her fans spreading in annoyance. _(It’s very different with a two-tails in the mix. I don’t think we can properly explain it to you. It happens so naturally for us.)_

“No, I get it. You’re kind of like a collective when you’re together, but still autonomous - especially when you’re apart.”Dean shrugs, tugging lightly at the link between them when Castiel’s fingers stop combing through his hair. Satisfaction pulses hotly through the kin-connection when he lets his hand slide to the back of Dean’s neck and continues to run his fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head.

Balthazar rolls his eyes and Castiel feels the circle become complete when he reaches out and joins with Dean’s mind too. _(Do you have to do that right now?)_

 _(Not really.)_ Castiel answers with no intention of stopping.

 _(But I like it.)_ Dean finishes, leaning more into Castiel’s side.

Anna reaches over and flicks Balthazar’s side fan hard enough to make him hiss and bare his teeth at her. _(Leave them be and let them have this. Depending on what the council decides tomorrow, they might not have it again.)_

The heavy weight that settles in Castiel’s chest is mirrored by the despair that flares painfully through Dean’s thoughts. It shocks Anna and Balthazar into silence and they turn wide eyes to them. There’s a sadness blanketing Dean’s mind now, even though it doesn’t show on his face. His hand grips tighter over Castiel’s waist, fingers digging into his hip.

 _(I’m sorry.)_ Anna’s apologies fill the kin-connection. _(I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant –)_

 _(No, it’s fine.)_ Dean interrupts, waving his hand as he cuts her off. _(It’s nothing I haven’t already thought about since Cas went back home yesterday.)_

Castiel makes a soft noise, concerning edging into their link as he leans into Dean’s side. He understands the feeling well. It’s one that he’s been trying to ignore since he returned to the colony yesterday. It sits restless and terrifying deep in his chest. He feels sick whenever he thinks that the council might decide against allowing him a relationship with Dean. If they give him the ultimatum – stay with Dean and force the colony to move, or stay with the colony in their home and never see Dean again – he knows the right choice to make and he knows the option Dean told him to pick.

But it _hurts_.

After six seasons of thinking he would never see Dean again, he came back for him and within a week Castiel fell in love all over again. Even though he knew that he was going to have to return to the colony, even though he knew that he might not be able to stay with Dean again this time, Castiel still let him back in. He _welcomed_ it.

Dean’s arm tightens behind his back, pulling him closer. _(It’s okay. I’ll go back with you guys tomorrow and meet the council.)_ He turns his head and rests his forehead against Castiel’s temple, his breath warm on his cheek. “And I’ll let them do whatever they have to if it means helping to convince them with whatever they need convincing – then I’ll do it.”

 _(We can help prepare you.)_ Balthazar’s offer comes slowly, as if he’s mulling it over even as he proposes it. _(Anna and I know how our brothers think. We know that they’ll be looking for proof that the colony is safe and, as Cas’s brothers, they’ll also be looking to make sure you won’t hurt him again.)_ His thoughts take a harder edge toward the end and Castiel can’t bring himself to glare at him disapprovingly.

“Do it.” Dean lifts his head again, looking down at Balthazar and Anna. He gestures at his temple with his other hand. “Even if it’s just because _you_ want to see, do it. If you’re satisfied, it might help convince them too.”

 _(If opening himself to you fully starts to hurt him, you stop.)_ Castiel’s glow brightens dangerously for a moment at merely having to mention Dean being hurt. _(If he tells you to, you stop. If_ I _tell you to –)_

 _(We get it.)_ Balthazar swims forward, reaching out to touch the end of Castiel’s tail where it dips into the water as a physical reassurance. _(We know how much your two-tails means to you. We’ll be careful.)_

Castiel doesn’t miss Dean’s smug smile, and neither do his siblings. He sighs and nods, withdrawing almost completely from the link he shares with Dean – if only to keep from adding more stress to his mind. Balthazar does the same. There’s every chance that Raphael or one of the other council members will request that Castiel not be joined with him while they check his mind. It’s would be a rude request when taking into consideration the level of his relationship with Dean, but it would be a necessary one. They can’t risk him interfering or trying to manipulate what they see in Dean’s thoughts.

Anna goes first when Dean insists that ladies always go ahead of men. Castiel keeps his eyes focused on Dean’s face, watching closely in the light of their combined glows for any sign of discomfort. Dean sits with his eyes closed and even the gentle drift of Castiel’s fingers through his hair gets no reaction. His curiosity wages war within him, like a prickling sensation under his skin that he can’t scratch.

When she withdraws to the same extent that Castiel has, Dean lets out a heavy breath and slumps against Castiel’s side. Anna doesn’t say anything and if she has any thoughts about what she found in Dean’s mind, she doesn’t share them. They wait a few minutes to let Dean recover and gather himself against before Balthazar repeats the process.

This time the hand resting in the cradle of Dean’s legs balls into a fist and his whole body tenses. Castiel reaches for his hand automatically, curling his fingers around it and brushing his thumb over the back of Dean’s hand. Touch is the only comfort he can give right now and it’s almost a physical weight on his shoulders not to be able to do more for Dean. His adipose-fins ripple disconcertingly as he wonders if Dean is in pain. Is Balthazar being too rough or is the strain of having his mind forcefully scoured too much for him to bear? He doesn’t know and Dean isn’t telling them to stop.

The moment Balthazar pulls back, Dean sags heavily into him. Castiel takes his time with strengthening the kin-connection between them again. He doesn’t want to add any more stress than necessary. It’s unexpected when Dean seizes the link between them and _pulls_ , building it faster than Castiel would have anticipated. Like the blanket draped over their shoulders, Dean takes the link he has with Castiel and wraps himself in it, sinking into it and Castiel’s mental touch as if it’s more of a comfort to him than the hand in his hair.

“Sure didn’t hold back, did you?” Dean mumbles, opening his eyes to look down at Balthazar.

Castiel turns a sharp glare to him and Balthazar simply shrugs. _(We gave him a taste of what he might experience tomorrow. Either Metatron or Michael, or even Gabriel, might be more forceful than necessary just to see if he’ll retaliate and force them out of his mind. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raphael has talked Metatron into doing that. If you_ do _force anyone out tomorrow, I can guarantee that Raphael will immediately claim that you have something to hide.)_

_(But I don’t.)_

_(Raphael won’t care.)_ Anna’s fans flare angrily. _(There is very little that he cares about beyond his position and what he thinks is the way. He was the most opposed to letting the fang-fin share the trench and he was willing to let the war rage through the breeding season if it meant that we would win.)_

Dean huffs a quiet laugh. “Does _anyone_ like that guy?”

None of them have an answer and Dean’s laughter rumbles loudly in his chest as his shoulder shake. _(But he’s not one of the ones who wants to take a peek tomorrow, is he?)_

_(No, he and Lucifer have refused looking into your mind. Lucifer hates humans and he wants nothing to do with touching the mind of one. And even though he opposes my brothers at almost every decision, Raphael is of the same viewpoint.)_

Dean hums quietly, tilting his head back to look at the stars while he thinks for a moment before he looks back down at Anna and Balthazar. _(Do I at least get a pass with you two?)_ There’s hope lining his words and Castiel shares his nervous anticipation for their answer.

 _(I’d rather not say.)_ Balthazar’s grin is cheeky and teasing, and it makes Anna laugh.

She slaps at his shoulder. _(You did well. It’s not easy trusting someone with what you did us. There are many fin-kin who would have never allowed what you did.)_

Castiel’s purr rumbles high in his chest and he presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead. _(I’m sure that you’ll do just fine in the morning.)_ He’ll still have his own worries through the night, but at least Anna and Balthazar approve of Dean and that’s more than enough to lift his spirits. _(You should sleep now and rest your mind for tomorrow. You’ll have to do that three times over at the very least.)_

Dean groans, but he doesn’t object. He unfolds his legs and lets his feet dip into the water while he stretches them. “So what are the sleeping arrangements for tonight? I’ve got spare beds if you two want to come in.”

 _(You must be joking.)_ Balthazar’s thoughts are flat and disapproving. _(Leave the water? That’s insanity.)_

 _(Then you’re welcome to find a place on the cove floor.)_ Castiel glares at him while he carefully gathers the blanket in his arms as Dean gets to his feet. _(I’ll be sleeping inside with Dean.)_

He pushes a hand through Castiel’s hair before he stretches again. _(And what about you, Anna?)_

 _(I’ll stay with Balthazar. There’s safety in numbers and even if we’re in a cove, we can’t be too careful.)_ She starts to drift farther away from the dock, glancing over her shoulder. _(It might be safer for us to sleep between the columns.)_

 _(We’ll find a place.)_ Balthazar shrugs and turns to follow her. _(See you in the morning.)_

They say their goodnights and duck under the surface, their glows muted through the dark waters as they dive deeper. Castiel severs the kin-connection as he holds the blanket while Dean carries him, each step up the stairs careful and measured. He can have the link with them at any time and they can easily touch his mind to get his attention if they need to. When he’s alone with Dean, Castiel prefers being solely linked with him.

The only difference in the couch-room when they pass through it is the pillow propped up at one end of the bigger couch and the notebook splayed open on the floor next to it. A pen has rolled much farther away, almost all the way to the TV’s wall.

_(You were writing?)_

“Yup. Just making a list of everything that I want to include in the next book.” Dean kicks the pen back toward the notebook. “You’ll find out all about it when you read it.”

Castiel huffs and flicks his side-fan to catch Dean in the cheek as retribution for making him wait. He wants to get started on learning to read as soon as he can, but plans for that will have to wait for after tomorrow. Right now, Dean needs his sleep so he can be fully rested for meeting the council in the morning.  Anything that he has to say about the future can be said in the morning either during breakfast or when they take the boat out again.

Dean leaves him to set up the pillows and the blanket as he wants while he takes his time getting ready for bed in the bathroom. By the time he returns, Castiel’s belt and weapons are on the floor and he is holding the alarm clock and trying to remember which buttons Dean pushed to turn it on. He places the spray bottles on the bedside table and instead of going around to get onto the bed on his side, Dean slides into place behind Castiel, fitting his chest to his back and reaching around to show him which buttons do what.

With the alarm finally set to wake them up later, they settle back into the pillows. Dean remains sitting behind Castiel, his arms fixed around his waist and his nose angled behind one of his side-fans. The heat of Dean’s skin is exquisite and Castiel gropes for the blanket to pull it up as high as he can to keep all the physical warmth trapped beneath it. He makes mental note to ask Dean about building another blanket cave the next time he’s here.

“Tell me about what happened.” Dean murmurs against his neck while he helps to tuck the blanket around their shoulders. “After you went deep yesterday, what happened?”

Castiel opens his memories to Dean, showing him everything from the moment he arrived to the moment he left with Anna and Balthazar. It doesn’t take very long when Dean encourages him to skip through most of his presentation to the council – focusing only on the reactions of the colony. He makes little humming thinking noises throughout and Castiel can feel his smile against his skin when he recalls the memories of telling Michael about Dean.

He turns over in Dean’s arms when they shuffled and slide down the bed to lay as they normally do, Castiel’s tail twisted around and between Dean’s legs as he curls against his side. They don’t need to say that they missed _this_ last night. It’s a known, unspoken fact between them that they sleep better when together. Simply from touching his mind earlier, Castiel could already tell that Dean hadn’t slept properly – if at all – the night before.

That is, perhaps, why Dean falls asleep so quickly. Castiel is envious. It’s harder for him to relax enough to achieve that, not with the ever present anxiety gnawing at his insides. There’s so much rests on tomorrow and he might lose so much – it’s terrifying. And that’s why it’s so surprising for him when he wakes up with the alarm, not having noticed when Dean’s soft snores had lulled him to sleep.

Dean grunts and grumbles, nearly squishing Castiel under his chest as he rolls over to reach for the alarm to stop the incessant beeping. Castiel murmurs unhappily and pushes up against him. _(I can get the alarm.)_

“I got it, I got it.” He slaps several times at the bedside table before the alarm finally stops. “See? I got it.” His grin is lazy and warm as he looks down at Castiel, dipping his head to press a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, let’s spray you down.”

Castiel stretches his arms above his head and his tail across the bed, the end hanging over the edge, as Dean crawls over him to grab the spray bottles and get his feet on the floor. He stretches too and yawns, scratching his fingers through his hair absently until Castiel is seated on the floor. At first Castiel thinks that they’re going to make quick work of this, thinking that Dean is sleepy and wants to return to bed as soon as possible. He’s proven wrong fairly quickly as Dean starts to carefully rub the water into his webbing with tender touches.

When the first kiss gets pressed to the back of his neck, Castiel’s back-fans nearly flare in surprise. The burgeoning curls of arousal that lick at the edges of the kin-connection are just as surprising. He twists to look over his shoulder at Dean, eyebrows raised questioningly.

_(Weren’t you sleepy a moment ago?)_

“Not so much sleepy as annoyed that I was woken up before my dream could get good.” He leans in again to press an open mouthed kiss to Castiel’s shoulder, teeth catching in his skin before he pulls away. “I’m pretty sure I knew where that dream was headed and I’m kinda disappointed I woke up before it could get there.”

 _(Show me.)_ Castiel turns around fully, already done with his side-fans and scales. He tugs at the kin-connection, pulling at the fleeting memories of Dean’s dreams. _(I want to see.)_

Dean grins again and lets him take what he wants. They’re hazy and blurry, already falling apart even though he hasn’t been awake for very long. Castiel holds onto them and sorts through the images of fleeting touches over naked skin and scales, mouths drifting from place to place before meeting again. The kisses in Dean’s dream are soft in one image, and hard in another, hands gripping shoulders or arms or fingers fisted in hair, holding on almost desperately.

It takes a moment for Castiel to notice what the brighter images of bodies moving together mean. Those aren’t _dreams_. They’re Dean’s current imaginings while he tugs Castiel’s tail to stretch out before him, making room for him to kneel over his lap and press Castiel back against the side of the bed.

“How awake are you?” Dean asks, his voice low and dark and deep. It’s a rumble of sound over Castiel’s side fans and it chases chills down his spine.

 _(Awake enough.)_ Castiel loops his arms around Dean’s waist and pulls him close, nose bumping his chin before he can press kisses along his jaw. He uses the tip of his tongue to trace the edge of Dean’s ear before he finds his way to Dean’s mouth.

There are no soft kisses now. When Dean kisses him, there’s barely room to breathe around the press of lips and curl of tongue. Dean’s hands frame the hinges of his jaw, fingers pressing along his side-fans as he does the closest thing to _claiming_ through a kiss that Castiel has ever received from him. Every stroke and suck and gentle nip is overwhelming and Castiel struggles simply to hang on, following blindly through every push and pull, give and take of the kiss.

Dean hands take a slow path down Castiel’s arms until they find his sides, slipping under and behind to hold him tightly. Castiel’s grip moves from his back to his shoulders, hands sinking into his hair to hold on as Dean stands, lifting him to the bed in one smooth motion. He barely needs to help at all as Dean slides him back up the bed to rest against the pillows and settles over his hips again.

Castiel drags Dean’s shirt up and over his head, breaking the kiss momentarily. Dean nearly growls at the loss of contact, grabbing the shirt and throwing it away before he’s back with bruising kisses that leave Castiel’s lips tingling when he finally decides to move. It’s Castiel’s choice to ignore the trembling, panicked, _desperation._

He presses kisses along Castiel’s throat and down his chest, stopping every few kisses to lavish attention to the spots that he knows gets the best reaction from him. Little noises rumble and whine in the back of Castiel’s throat and his hands don’t hold still. They brush through Dean’s hair and his claws turn the skin white under them when he presses them into his shoulders, tracing nonsensical designs into the tan. He finds the little indents of the scars of his bite and he brushes his thumb over them while Dean licks the edges of the faintly glowing lines along his side.

The touch is gentle, barely there, but it makes Dean go unnaturally still. He sits up so quickly that he dislodges Castiel’s hands. “Wait right here.” And he’s bounding from the bed faster than Castiel thought possible, ducking into the bathroom and not even using the light as he fumbles and bangs around in there before he returns with a small white box and a damp cloth.

 _(What are you doing?)_ Castiel frowns as he sits up, brightening his glow as Dean hands him the cloth and opens the box, immediately starting to take out squares and strips of white.

“We’re doing it now.” Dean glances up at him once while he lays out all the items on the bed, careful not to disrupt them when he climbs back into place to kneel over Castiel’s tail. “Either I’ll be getting in the water tomorrow or I’ll be sitting on the back of the boat. Either way I’m probably not going to be wearing a shirt and I want your council to see _it_.”

His meaning becomes clear when he turns tilts his head to bare his shoulder completely. Castiel sucks in a sharp breath, his back-fans flaring wide with an audible snap. _(But you –)_

“I want it now.” Dean takes his hand and pulls it, guiding it around his waist. “It’s going to hurt but I’m riding some kind of endorphin high or something right now and I don’t care what happens tomorrow but _I want it_.” He’s babbling and Castiel can barely make sense out of the jumbled translations beyond what it is that Dean wants. His cheek presses against his side-fan and his arms loosely circle his shoulders. “C’mon, Cas. You wanted to do it before.”

 _(I still do.)_ Castiel presses a kiss to the side of his neck. He leaves the cloth in his lap so his hands are free to smooth up the planes of Dean’s back.

For a moment Dean hesitates, going still under his hands before he pulls back to rest their foreheads together. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have – I should’ve checked with you first.” His voice goes quiet, soft and unsure. “Do _you_ want to do it right now?”

The small smile that pulls at Castiel’s lips turns dangerously predatory within moments. The thought of Dean bearing his bite mark, his glow pattern, and the bruises of his kisses before the council members sends a spiraling thrill through his chest. It burns with a heat that makes his adipose-fins ripple and a growl itches to reverberate in his throat. Tingles, like chills, chase over his ribs and stomach and the simmering magma of his arousal flares in his gut.

Castiel shares every single one of those feelings, filling the kin-connection with them as his answer as he tilts his face to press a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips. He lays a trail of kisses to Dean’s shoulder again, bypassing the scars of his previous bite to lick along his collarbone and back up his throat. Dean’s fingertips press into his shoulders as Castiel gently sucks at the dark mark he left over the hard center of his throat. His hands take a journey all their, slipping up and down his back and sides, fingers dipping into the waist of his undershorts briefly.

He distracts Dean with touches and kisses, making his body loose and pliant under his hands. More than once they deviate to ghost a teasing touch along Dean’s hardening erection between them, making his hips twitch hard of their own accord. The muscles of Castiel’s sheath are flexing and it’s sheer will power holding his erection back right now. Dean’s breathing comes in hard, short bursts as Castiel pays attention to everywhere within reach of his mouth, letting his teeth drag lightly over his skin.

Dean is unprepared when Castiel sinks his teeth into his shoulder again. It’s a harder bite than he gave him before, it goes deeper and the scars will be more pronounced. Surprisingly, Dean barely makes a sound – nothing more than a quiet, strangled little noise in the back of his throat. It’s more startled than it is pained, but the hold he has on Castiel tightens to the point where it almost hurts. The splash of Dean’s blood across his tongue is a warm, familiar tang. It’s not a taste he particularly _enjoys_ , but in some strange way it feels like it deepens the bond between them.

The tremors that wrack Dean’s body are slight as Castiel licks at the wound before he uses the damp cloth to wipe it clean until the bleeding slows. Through images in the kin-connection, Dean directs him how to lay the square of white over his shoulder and peel the clear pieces from the strips of white to secure the edges of the bandage to his skin.

 _(Does it hurt?)_ Castiel asks, pressing a gentle kiss to one of the clear strips after he’s finished.

“Yeah, but a few Tylenol and I’ll be fine.” Dean shrugs and winces immediately, busying himself with cleaning up everything and putting them away into the little white box. He takes a small bottle that rattles out of the box and shakes two little pellets out of it, swallowing them quickly while leaning over – and wincing more – to put the box on the bed side table.

Castiel leans back into the pillows again, his hands settling on Dean’s hips. _(We should have saved the bite for after.)_

“After what?” Dean murmurs his question, sliding down to lay over him properly. Castiel doesn’t miss how he keeps his weight off his left side even has Dean leans down to tuck his face against his gills.

He hums quietly in the back of his throat, looking up at the ceiling and trying to forget the heat still curling thickly in his gut. _(I thought that, with the way you were kissing me, you had realized that I was ready now.)_

Dean’s head pops up almost comically and Castiel slowly tilts his head to look at him again. “Wait, wait. Hold on.” He sits up a little more. “Are you saying that you were thinking we were going to –”

 _(You would have had to prepare yourself on your own, considering my claws.)_ To accentuate his point, Castiel presses his claws lightly into Dean’s skin and drags his hands up his back. _(All I was waiting for was knowing that you would be here when I returned. I came back and you’re still here. I didn’t think that we were going to do it because of what might happen in the morning, and I didn’t know if I even wanted to because of that – but your kisses changed my mind. Rather quickly, in fact.)_

“That – we can do that. We can definitely still do that.” Dean twists to one side, nearly falling over completely trying to reach the table on his side of the bed.

_(But your shoulder –)_

“Fuck my shoulder.” He hisses, desire warring with anticipation and the sting of his shoulder.

_(I don’t think that would be very effective, or pleasant.)_

Dean’s surprised laugh is enough to make him fall over completely, collapsing on his stomach. Castiel is rather pleased with his joke and he takes this time, while Dean still makes weak attempts to reach the bedside table, to pull his undershorts off. It takes squirming and unfolding and far too much effort, but they do eventually join the t-shirt on the ground. The moment Dean has the bottle of lube in hand, Castiel pulls him back to the middle of the bed.

He settles with his back against the pillows, legs spread. Castiel takes his place between them, his tail curled under him and the end twitching excitedly. This will be the first time in a very long time that he’ll get to do this and it’s with Dean – only and always with Dean. It’s something that he never thought he’d get to have again – the heat, the connection, _Dean_. He only got to do this with him a handful of times before and even though he never had words to describe it, the act alone was never enough. It brought him closer to Dean _physically_ but now things are different between them. There are no barriers and nothing to hide.

Even though there is still the fear of what tomorrow might bring, Castiel doesn’t care. He takes that fear and he buries it, shoving it so far in the depths of his mind it might as well be buried under the scales at the end of his tail. This – _Dean_ – is something that he wants again. Dean was here when Castiel returned. He was here and waiting and so happy to see that he came back – This is something that Castiel can have. He can have this again with Dean, even if it ends up being the last, _he can have it_.

Watching Dean preparing himself, fingers slip sliding in the jelly as they push and stretch where Castiel wants to touch sends him through bouts of frustration and envy. He tries to distract himself with pressing kisses to Dean’s thighs, but he can’t take his eyes off where they work.

“I think –” Dean starts, stopping when he pushes his fingers particularly deep and his hips jerk almost violently. “I think as soon as we get the council’s approval you’re going to cut your damn claws.”

 _(You’ll get no objections for me. Are you ready yet?)_ He leans down to press a kiss to the back of Dean’s hand. The fact that Dean doesn’t want to say ‘if’ helps him immensely with this moment. _(I don’t want to wait anymore.)_

“Top drawer. Go get one of the –”

Castiel muffles a growl in the back of his throat as he pulls away. He glares hatefully at the box of condoms when he pulls it from the drawer, and his glare only intensifies when Dean shakes one out onto the bed. His fingers are slick as he fumbles to open the little square packet. Castiel presses begrudging kisses to Dean’s bent knees as he lets his concentration slip and the muscles of his sheath tighten completely, forcing his penis to unsheathe. The fake-skin still feels weird and Castiel hates it.

 _(An addendum to before.)_ He pushes Dean’s hands away and leans over him, palms against the bed on either side of his chest. _(We get whatever tests need to be done so we can stop using these.)_

Dean huffs a quiet laugh, arms slipping over Castiel’s shoulders to pull him down into a kiss. _(We’ll see. It’s been a while, so –)_

 _(Go slow.)_ Castiel lets the kisses linger before he breaks away to sit back on the curl of his tail again. _(I remember. I never forgot.)_ He doubts he ever could.

They both take sharp breaths at the first press and Dean’s hands squeeze tightly around Castiel’s wrists where he holds his hips still. Words and thought leave Castiel again as the heat inside Dean’s body surrounds him again. He’s not sure how or when he ends up folded against Dean’s chest, arms looped around his waist and lifting his hips from the bed, his forehead pressed to Dean’s collarbone as he labours for every breath against his skin.

Dean’s hands roam wherever they can reach – gripping his hips to guide them in their roll-snap movements, or curving down his back and over his back-fans. Castiel remembers them in his hair at one point, pulling him up for kisses that are barely more than heavy panting against each other’s mouths. There’s praise in the kin-connection, praise and the burning warmth and an endless cycle of his name, but Castiel can barely hear any of it.

This is like their first time all over again. It’s overwhelming, overpowering, it’s stealing his senses one by one until there’s nothing but that shuddering white void that swallows everything and leaves him gasping and trembling against Dean’s chest. There are fingers in his hair and tracing along the spines of his side-fan. He can feel a steady, rapid heartbeat under his cheek and he can hear his breathing – too fast and uneven to be relaxed.

Castiel’s arms shake as he pushes himself up, pulling out of Dean slowly and fumbling to removed the condom before his penis fully sheaths itself again. Dean’s hands are steadier than his and he reaches down to help him, making quick work of it and tossing it over the side of the bed. He draws Castiel back to him again and this time the kisses are proper, long and drawn out, warm and sweet and suffused with the taste that he’s only ever found in Dean.

When Dean reaches orgasm too, it’s by Castiel’s hand and the end of his tail. Dean’s hips continue to move against it, pushing down onto it and back up into the curl of Castiel’s fist until he is fully spent and lays limp on the bed. Castiel remains pressed to his side until Dean catches his breath and musters the energy to reach for the cloth they had used earlier. He wipes himself down and throws that over the edge of the bed too.

Sleep takes him before they’re even fully comfortable under the blanket, and again morning feels like it comes too soon. When he wakes, Castiel finds himself alone in the bed but the bathroom door is open and he can hear the rushing water of the shower and the sound of Dean humming loudly. He recognizes the tune as Dean’s favourite song and after an exquisite stretch, Castiel raises his voice to sing the words that go with it. He’s still singing when Dean returns to the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Good morning to you too.” He grins, kneeling on the bed to lean down and kiss him quickly. “Just let me get dressed and we can go.”

 _(What about breakfast?)_ Castiel sits up, watching him as he roots around in the closet for something to wear. _(Don’t you want to eat?)_

“I grabbed some leftovers and I’ll eat them on the boat. You need anything?”

 _(I don’t think I could stomach anything right now.)_ With the morning light creeping over the edges of the cove, it brings back all the fears Castiel has about the council’s decision and it feels like both his stomach and his chest are constricting, shrinking in on themselves and making it hard to breathe.

Dean fills the kin-connection with that all consuming warmth, letting it soothe over all of Castiel’s worries. “It’ll be fine, Cas. You know it will.”

_(But what if they –)_

“It doesn’t matter what they decide. It’ll be fine.” Dean grins at him before pulling his shirt over his head. “Come on. I bet Anna and Balthazar are waiting for us.”

Castiel frowns at him as he picks up a plastic bag from the floor full of little containers and hands it too him. _(You are far more hopeful about this than I thought you would be. You used to be hopeful, but almost morbidly realistic about the situation. When did you become such an optimist?)_

“That was me about twenty-four hours ago.” Dean shrugs and picks Castiel up, cradling him against his chest as he takes him outside. “But then I won over two of your siblings and two out of three isn’t bad. I’ll have it rough with Lucifer, but I think I’ve got Gabriel in the bag.”

_(What makes you think that?)_

The amusement in the kin-connection increases a hundred fold. “I mean that almost literally. There’s stuff in the bag for Gabriel – and the others, if they want to try it. I won’t be so great once it gets wet, but if they surface it should taste fine. And I put your belt in there too.”

 _(Food? You’re bringing –)_ It clicks and Castiel isn’t sure exactly how he’s supposed to feel. There’s pride in Dean for thinking of this plan, and for remembering one of the few things Castiel told him about his brother, but he’s also incredulous that he’s even considering this. _(You’re going to bribe Gabriel with something sweet.)_

“It’s not a bribe.” Dean tries to sound affronted, but his amusement in the kin-connection is bordering on gleeful. “It’s a peace offering. Human to fin-kin.”

Castiel lets it pass. If it means tilting the odds in their favour, then he’ll support whatever Dean does. But if he saw through it, it’s likely that Michael, Metatron or even Gabriel will do the same – _especially_ when they’ll be sifting through his mind. Anna and Balthazar are floating aimlessly by the dock, their eyes locked on the cove walls and where bright-pearl’s light is changing the colours of steady-blue.

He opens the kin-connection with both of them, greeting them as they drift closer. Pleasantries are over and done with the moment they both confirm that they slept just fine and Castiel does the same. He’s fully aware of when they both join with Dean’s mind too. There’s a difference in the kin-connection, like the final link in a chain has been closed, when all their minds are pieced together.

“Are you guys coming onboard too?” Dean calls out over the edge of the boat as he steps onto it carefully while carrying Castiel. “It’ll be faster.”

 _(But we won’t be able to breathe.)_ Balthazar’s thoughts are lined with untruth and his own nervousness as not having water in his gills.

 _(Clearly I am breathing.)_ Castiel puts the bag down the moment Dean seats him on one of the chairs. He leans over the edge as Anna and Balthazar swim up to the side of the boat. _(All you have to do is seal your gills flat – as if you were holding your breath – and then cough the water up. It’ll hurt a little at first, but you get used to breathing air pretty quickly.)_

Anna is the first to try it. With Dean’s help, she pulls herself up onto the swim deck. Her hold on the hilt of her sword is white-knuckled as she coughs and spits the water, doubled over the edge of the swim-deck and shaking with the effort of using her lungs properly for the first time in her life. Each breath afterward is rasping, but she’s pleased with herself for being able to do it and Castiel is proud of her for trying. It takes much more persuading to get Balthazar to do the same.

“Alright, all three of you need to get inside.” Dean uses his foot to push open the door that leads to the covered part of the boat. “I don’t want you guys in the sun and I don’t know if we’re going to pass any other boats or not.”

Castiel leaves the bag and push-pulls himself inside. Anna and Balthazar follow while Dean unties the boat from the dock. The engine roars and the floor under their hands and tails trembles slightly when Dean turns everything on. It sends panic flaring through the kin-connection and Castiel has to hush them both as Dean pulls the door mostly shut behind them.

 _(He’s just going to take us to the break in the wall.)_ He explains, detailing with images how they leave the cove with the boat.

Their glows light the small room and Castiel takes this chance to examine it. The ceiling isn’t very high and Dean would probably have to duck quite a bit to move about in here. There is a table with two chairs built against one wall, and the backs of one of the chairs is connected to what is likely a smaller room, judging by the door. When asked, Dean names it as the bathroom. The rest of the room is lined with a low, cushioned seats and Castiel pulls himself up onto one.

Anna copies him but Balthazar prefers to remain on the floor, his back pressed against the seat just in front of Castiel. He pushes his hand through Balthazar’s hair absently, a comforting touch to soothe his nerves as they listen to the thumps of Dean guiding the boat through the small tunnel. The entire trip is tense and it feels longer while sitting inside the room than it did sitting out in the air with Dean the other day. Castiel doesn’t like it and he seeks comfort in the familiar, calming touch of Dean’s thoughts.

Even though the trip feels longer, it’s still too short for Castiel’s liking when the engines finally stop and the anchor rattles away into the deep. He’s not even surprised when Balthazar is the one who volunteers to go fetch the council. Dean comes inside once he helps him off the boat and Castiel waits to make sure that Balthazar is okay returning to breathing through his gills before he terminates the kin-connection with him again. The moment that Dean sits down, Castiel lays his head in his lap.

Anna makes a curious cooing sound from the other side of the room. _(Are you okay, little one?)_

 _(No.)_ He turns his face into Dean’s leg and even Dean’s fingers combing through his hair does nothing to alleviate the tight nervous feeling in his throat, bleeding into his chest and making it hard to breathe.

“It’ll be okay, Cas.” Dean whispers softly.

_(You don’t know that.)_

“And you don’t know that it won’t be.” Dean points out, his other hand warm and heavy on Castiel’s shoulder. “Michael seemed to like me when you told him about me, didn’t he? And I’ve got eyes and ears in the marine exploration world thanks to Jess and Sam – I’d totally be an asset to your colony. There’s next to no downside letting us keep this. Don’t you trust your brothers to make the right decision?”

 _(For the colony, yes.)_ Castiel folds his tail to his chest and hugs it. _(But the safety of the colony is more important than my happiness and that is what they will base their decision on.)_

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one, huh?. Yeah, I get that.” Dean huffs, leaning back against the wall. “We’ve still got a damn good debate on our side, and Anna and Balthazar to back up my awesomeness – right?”

Anna smothers a laugh behind her hand. _(We’ve always been on Castiel’s side. It’s a happy coincidence that you happen to be on his side as well.)_

“Ha, ha.” Dean’s voice goes flat, but his amusement curls brightly in the kin-connection.

The back and forth teasing between them slowly calms the anxious pulse beating through Castiel’s veins. But it all comes crashing back the moment he feels the press of the kin-connection again and it opens to the many voices of the council. Immediately Anna falls silent and even though Dean hasn’t been accepted by the minds of the others yet, he knows that it’s time. 


	51. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel doesn't mind. There's a heavy satisfaction seeping through him now knowing that he'll carry a physical mark of their bond. A purr rumbles deep in his chest as Dean sits next to him again, one leg folded under him as he opens the little white box and starts tending to the wound like Castiel did to his the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- [OotD Info Pages](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com). You can find them in the left side bar.  
> \- [OotD store](http://outofthedeep.storenvy.com)  
> \- OotD scenes from [Dean’s POV](http://archiveofourown.org/works/652906).
> 
> Fanarts today are by the following wonderful people:  
> andreyawinchester and star-dog. 
> 
>  
> 
> _The fanarts get split up. If your art isn’t here now, it’ll likely be with the next chapter._
> 
>  
> 
> It's true. This is the last chapter. The next will be an epilogue. 
> 
> I honestly cannot put into words how amazing of a journey this has been. OotD has brought me so much that I never expected. It's been a huge boost to my self-esteem, I've made tons of new friends, and I just can't even begin thanking everyone for all their support and love over the last year that I've been writing OotD. It's been a long, rather painful, journey and even though OotD the fanfic is ending, it still has a ways to go. 
> 
> I am planning on publishing OotD as it's own little book series. It will be undergoing a reconstruction of sorts - name changes and the like, and there are some scenes I want to add and some I want to edit. I will leave the fanfic up for reading until I've got my final copy ready for publication. Until then, I hope you have enjoyed OotD as its first draft and thank you so much for reading it.
> 
> If you're still interested in seeing all the fanart that OotD gets - I collect what I find on the #out of the deep tag on tumblr and what is submitted to me on [this page](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/tagged/ootd+fanart).

Anna push-pulls herself out onto the deck first with Dean close behind her. Castiel is much slower to move. He has no idea what the council's decision is going to be and that whole sense of _not knowing_ is terrifying. Having hope hurts and there is little that he can do to have any effect on their decision now. All that is left for him to do is to wait and pray fervently to mother-sea that somehow he’ll be allowed to stay with Dean.

He watches from the shadows of the covered part of the boat while Dean helps Anna back into the water. Through his connection with Dean, Castiel can see everything that he does. There are shapes beneath the surface, half a dozen fin-kin or more, and none of them are putting their faces out of the water. Castiel can't recognize any of them with Dean's poor human sight and the waves distorting colours and bodies and faces.

“Are you going back in the water?” Dean asks as he turns around to face him.

 _(No. I want to stay here with you.)_ He shakes his head, hugging the fold of his tail to his chest while Dean sits on the nearest chair to pull off his shirt and pick at the bandage over his shoulder.

“They saying anything to you yet?” Dean tilts his head, looking at Castiel while he peels the bandage off.

Castiel turns his attention to the kin-connection, listening to the many voices. _(Anna is giving her own report about you. I believe she's corroborating everything that Balthazar told them on the swim up from the colony.)_

“Good things?”

 _(I don't know.)_ He rests his chin on the fold of his tail, watching Dean kick off his shoes. _(I'm only being told the subject, not the content. They're purposefully blocking me from the conversation.)_

“That makes sense, I guess. You're too close to it to be included, huh?” Dean moves from the chair to the floor, sitting close enough that Castiel can reach for him now. He allows Dean to pull him over, sliding easily into his lap to sit tucked against his chest.

 _(I suppose. If I knew what they were talking about, I might be able to tell you things that you could use to correct your behaviours or hide things from them when they look into your mind.)_ He shrugs and turns his face into Dean's neck, his skin warmed by his time in the light of bright-pearl. _(It doesn't matter, though. I've done all that I can and all that's left is to wait for whatever happens.)_

Dean's arms circle his waist loosely as kisses get pressed to his temple. “It'll be okay. We're prepared for any outcome, aren't we?”

 _(No, I'm not.)_ He pulls away sharply, hands curling into fists against Dean's chest. _(Depending on their decision, I'll either have everything that I want, or I'll lose my family, or I'll lose you. It's -)_

Castiel is cut off with a kiss he isn't expecting. It's just a simple press of lips that sends his thoughts stuttering to a halt. One of Dean's hands comes up to cup the side of his face, fingers light against the base of his side-fan before he leans back against the seat again.

“Don't worry about it, Cas.” Dean murmurs, pulling him forward for another kiss. “Just wait. There's no point letting it upset you right now when you don't know what the outcome will be.”

He lets Dean distract him with kisses for a few moments before he moves to sit like they were before. _(I can't help it. I want to keep my family and I want to keep you.)_ His fingers find the sensitive scabs of the bite from last night on Dean’s shoulder and Castiel traces along the swollen edges, not actually touching it. The mark is too new for him to touch it directly yet. _(I'm not sure if I'll be able to let you go again. It'll hurt too much and I just got you back.)_

“It'll work out.”

_(You keep saying that, but do you really believe it?)_

“Sorta yes, sorta no.” Dean shrugs and smoothes his hand down his sides until he can play with his adipose-fin like Castiel usually does. “Part of me is pretty damn pessimistic about the whole thing because nothing has ever really worked out for us before, but another part of me wants to believe it's all going to be fine because we've been through enough and we deserve it. It's actually really annoying to be thinking like this, like I can't decide if I'm hopeful or not.”

Castiel huffs the closest thing to a laugh he can give right now. He doesn't know what else there is to say or do, and they're just waiting for the council to call him to the water. They might call Dean in too and if they do that then Castiel will absolutely refuse to leave Dean's side. There's every chance that Lucifer or Raphael or someone will try to drown him simply because he’s human and Castiel won't allow it to happen. If anything, he'd rather that they both stay on the boat while the council scours Dean's mind for signs of deception.

When the pull happens through the kin-connection, Castiel flinches hard enough that it startles Dean and he sits up. “They're calling?”

He nods and only holds tighter, forcing his tail behind Dean to wrap securely around his waist. Dean doesn't complain, but it does make it harder for him to stand and carry Castiel to the back of the boat. Rather than lower him into the water, or simply dropping him over the side of the boat, or even jumping into the ocean like he did before, he places Castiel gently on the small wall that separates the swim-deck from the rest of the boat. Castiel has to regretfully uncurl from around him, letting his tail drop to the swim-deck and fold there.

While Dean gets the bag of things that he brought, Castiel turns his attention to the kin-connection – more specifically, to Michael and the council. He puts the thought out carefully, hiding his worry of how they will respond. _(How do you want to speak to Dean?)_

 _(From there is fine. Your two-tails doesn't have to come in the water if he doesn't want to.)_ Michael's words are flat, his emotions wiped clean from the kin-connection.

Gabriel and Lucifer are no different, but Raphael's animosity is scalding and he's not even bothering to hide it. Metatron, however, is nearly radiating boredom – but Castiel can see him watching through the waves, his face closest to the surface out of everyone. He's always been interested in knowledge and stories, learning every legend and song the colony has. Since the end of the war, he's been listening to the history of the fang-fin and the stories they have. That gives Castiel a small burst of hope. If Metatron is interested in Dean and the stories that he could share and all the new information he would learn, then maybe he will be more likely to agree that their relationship is a benefit to the colony.

 _(Castiel.)_ Gabriel gets his attention as he swims closer to the boat, his back-fan breaking the surface before he twists under again. _(You need to sever the kin-connection with him. Only we will be in his mind for this.)_

 _(I understand.)_ Castiel's hands curl into fists on his lap and he turns away to look over his shoulder at Dean until he joins him and they both move to sit on the swim-deck.

Dean has a blanket and the plastic bag with him. He drapes the blanket over Castiel to shield him from bright-pearl, making sure that even his tail is tucked under it and hidden in the shade. Castiel uses the time it takes for them to get settled to explain to Dean what he was just told.

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Dean sighs, sitting with his feet in the water.

There's no anticipation in the kin-connection, but there is also no dread. When Castiel prods at Dean's thoughts, he finds no barriers that would hide his emotions. His confusion gets him a smile and a shrug in response. “I shut down when it's time to do important stuff. Feelings just get in the way when I need to focus and carry something out.”

_(Don't do that right now. They need to know that you're worried. If you feel nothing while they are essentially violating your privacy and your mind, it might be seen as a negative thing.)_

“I'm not doing it on purpose, Cas. It just happens. They're in there, but it feels like they're deep down and hard to find.” Dean finds his hand under the blanket and squeezes it. “I'm not gonna do anything to fuck this up. They can go in there and do what they want. There's just one thing that I wanna know.”

Castiel tilts his head, brow furrowing. _(What?)_

“Should I give them these before or after?” He holds up the bag, eyebrows lifting in question.

He can't help the undignified snort of laughter. If that's all that's concerning Dean right now, then perhaps things really will be alright and Castiel is just over thinking everything as he sometimes has the tendency to do. Dean puts the bag between them and takes out a thin box that rattles, placing it in Castiel's lap. He also removes Castiel's belt and his weapons from the bag, putting that behind them. The rest of the bag is filled with a few other belts that have the loops for daggers and swords, like the one Dean just moved.

_(You made them weapon belts too?)_

“Well you said that the kelp ones rot away pretty quick. These'll last for a good long while.” Dean shrugs and takes out one of the belts. “D'you think they'll actually use them?”

 _(They might.)_ He takes the belt that Dean hands to him. _(Metatron and Gabriel aren't fighters, so they might not accept these.)_

“That's cool. I have the candy for Gabe. I have no idea what I could give to Megatron.”

 _(Me-_ ta _-tron.)_ Castiel corrects him and Dean laughs for reasons he doesn't understand. _(When he's the one in your head, offer him a story – not something about your past, but something like we would read in one of your books. He loves stories.)_

Dean raises an eyebrow at him, but he nods before he looks out at the water. “Do you want to call them over so I can give them this stuff or what?”

 _(Let me check with them.)_ Castiel turns his attention to the links he shares with the others. _(Dean brought gifts for the council – weapon belts like mine for those of you who want one.)_

Michael is the first to swim forward, his hand rising from the water for the belt that Castiel is holding. Though his emotions aren't in the kin-connection, Castiel is certain that he will express at least a thanks when his mind is joined with Dean. He isn't surprised that Raphael refuses immediately and Castiel shuts out the oncoming angry tirade before it can even start. He doesn't need to listen to Raphael ranting about how Dean is only trying to bribe them.

What _does_ surprise him is when Lucifer follows after Michael and accepts the belt that Dean holds out – even going so far as to pulse gratitude into the kin-connection with Castiel for him to share with Dean.

 _(He only wants one because I wore yours when I took it from you and I kept saying how much I liked it.)_ Michael allows a little amusement to edge his words. _(It's more secure than kelp and I almost didn't want to give it back.)_

Castiel smothers a laugh behind his hand and checks the bag. There are three more belts left and he's not surprised when neither Raphael nor Metatron swim forward for one. He's never seen Metatron touch a weapon, even when they were in the midst of a war. If Raphael ever accepts anything from Dean, Castiel thinks the shock might kill him. When Gabriel's hand sticks up out of the water, Castiel nearly does a double-take. Even though his brother has his own dagger and sword, he rarely carries them and Castiel isn't sure if he even knows how to use them.

 _(I'm not going to be the only one in our family swimming away from here without one. Gimme.)_ Gabriel flexes his fingers and Castiel rolls his eyes, dropping one of the belts into his waiting palm.

 _(I feel you should know that Dean brought something special for you.)_ Castiel points out, holding up the rattling box and shaking it just out of Gabriel's reach. _(It's one of their foods. Sweet and tasty and just for you. He says it would be better if you ate it out of the water.)_

Gabriel is silent for a moment before his tail twitches and his head breaks the surface. He holds his hand out again, reaching for the box. _(Let me try it.)_

Dean takes the box and opens it, shaking several hard, coloured pellets into Gabriel's outstretched hand. After spitting out the water in his mouth but not fully clearing his lungs, Gabriel lifts his hand to his lips and tilts the pellets into his mouth without hesitation. Castiel would be shocked if he didn't suspect that Gabriel wasn't trusting _his_ belief in Dean. He can hear the crunch as Gabriel chews them from where he's sitting and he smiles at the burst of surprise through the kin-connection. It adds to the little pool of hope building in his chest.

Gabriel takes the box from Dean completely, swimming backward and away from the boat as he dips his head to breathe before spitting out excess water and shaking more contents from the box directly into his mouth. His happy noises are loud enough for even Dean to hear and Castiel turns a pleased smile to him, matched by the one pulling at Dean's lips.

“I think that went pretty well, don't you?”

Castiel nods, sending bright curls of hope into the kin-connection that makes Dean's grin grow. He glances down, gesturing at the bag. _(What are we going to do with these extra ones? Raphael and Metatron don't want them.)_

“What about Anna and Balthazar?”

He turns the question to his link with his siblings and unsurprisingly they both are more than happy to accept the gifts. As they slide back beneath the surface, fumbling to clip the belts around their waists, Castiel prepares himself for closing the kin-connection with Dean. There's nothing more for them to do to delay the inevitable and he can only hope that the searching they do doesn't hurt Dean. It occurs to him then that there _is_ something he can do to dissuade them from doing that.

 _(Come with me into the water. Just for a few minutes.)_ Castiel looks to Dean quickly, reaching for his own belt. It will be necessary for what he is about to do.

By the time he has the belt properly cinched, Gabriel is finished the box and he tosses it back onto the boat. The moment that the belt is secure over his hips, Castiel shrugs the blanket from his shoulders and dives from the swim-deck. He lets the water fill his lungs and flow through his gills before he twists around to find Dean already lazily treading water above him. One pulse of warning is all Dean gets to notify him to hold his breath. The moment he's ready, Castiel pulls him down by his foot. Aside from his siblings and the council, there are a few guards – or perhaps just colony-kin who were interested in watching, it's hard to tell – who are also present.

Castiel opens the kin-connection to everyone. _(Regardless of what you decide today, Dean is my_ mate _.)_ He uses images in the link to draw everyone's attention to the scabs on Dean's shoulders, the tattoos on his legs, and the kiss-bruises scattered over his body. His hand goes to the hilt of his sword and he makes sure they all see him do it as he flares his fans as wide as they'll go and increases his glow to a threatening brightness despite how close they are to the surface. _(If you hurt my mate, I will not hesitate to hurt you – whether you are from my birth-nest or a member of the council. This is the only warning I will give.)_

While he lets that information sink in, Castiel drags Dean back to the surface for him to breathe. Dean shakes the water from his eyes and there's pride and awe filling the kin-connection as he pulls Castiel to him for a kiss that is as surprisingly hard as the grip on his hip. Dean's grin is wide and more than a little heated when he pulls back. _(I love it when you get badass.)_

 _(Not now.)_ Castiel gives him a halfhearted, disapproving glare. _(Right now you should be deciding if you want them in your head while you're in the water, or while you're sitting on the swim-deck. I'll be at your side no matter what you choose.)_

Dean looks back toward the boat, thinking while he bobs with the waves. _(I think I'd rather be sitting. If they're going to be anything like it last night, I want something solid under me.)_

_(I would keep you floating if you stayed in the water.)_

_(Do you_ want _me to stay swimming? I will if you want me to.)_ He looks back to Castiel, eyebrow raised.

If he must be honest, Castiel would prefer that Dean be on the boat as well. It would be difficult to keep him floating and safe from the others if Raphael or the guards attacked at the same time. He'd rather not risk it. There would be no guarantee that his siblings would help in the fight if it came down to that. Anna and Balthazar likely would, but it would still complicate matters.

Castiel helps Dean onto the swim-deck, accepting his offered hands when Dean turns around to pull him up behind him. The moment he's seated, Dean puts the blanket back over Castiel's head and tucks it around him again. Without caring about who might see it, Castiel takes Dean's hand and holds it tightly as he hesitantly withdraws from the kin-connection. He pulses as much warmth and hope as possible into the link before it closes completely.

Dean squeezes his hand tightly and leans more into his side. He's murmuring words Castiel recognizes, words that string together to keep him calm as his adipose-fins rustle weakly against the swim-deck. Castiel can only sigh and lean against him. Now all he can give Dean is silent support through this and hope no one is stupid enough to try and hurt his mate. At the first sign of actual pain – beyond the sting of force – Castiel will dive from the boat and _destroy_ anyone you makes that mistake.

It takes more courage than he cares to admit to announce through the kin-connection that he is no longer linked with Dean. _(He's ready.)_

Gabriel swims forward first. He circles in front of the swim-deck a few times before he takes to floating just beneath the surface, face tilted back to watch Dean closely. A few heads – Anna and Balthazar, even Michael – break the waves to see the physical reactions too. Castiel knows the exact moment that the kin-connection is made. Dean sucks in a sharp breath and his fingers flex around Castiel's hand, his body going tense beside him. He keeps his eyes closed and ignores the soft, curious sound that Castiel makes.

It’s almost physically painful for him not to know what's happening. Dean doesn't move beyond the first reaction and his breathing remains steady. Even Gabriel barely moves. Only his adipose-fins ripple to keep him floating in place as he searches Dean's mind like Castiel never has. He's cut Castiel out of their link too. There's his presence, flickering brightly in the blank space of the kin-connection, but Gabriel is silent in the way that means Castiel is completely blocked from him – separated by walls as thick as their home trench is wide.

Dean relaxes the moment Gabriel recedes from his mind. Castiel makes the curious noise again. The only thing keeping him from reaching for Dean’s mind and establishing the kin-connection again is the beat of warning that Michael pulses at him, his side-fans flaring sharply and splashing the water.

“That wasn't so bad.” Dean turns his head to give him an easy smile. “Did you know your brother can be kind of an asshole? He went straight for the memories about _us_ first and he was stupidly happy about that. Were they really betting on us?”

Castiel doesn't understand everything in its whole. He knows a few of the words, but pieced together like they are doesn't make any sense to him. Dean laughs under his breath when Castiel tilts his head and frowns at him.

“Don't worry about it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to Castiel's blanket covered shoulder. “I'm ready for the next one.”

 _(I think Dean just said he's ready.)_ Castiel slips the thought into the kin-connection hesitantly, hoping that is what Dean really just said. It's the word he recognized, at least.

Metatron takes Gabriel's place as his brother twists and dives, rising again next to Anna and Balthazar with a sweet snail already at his lips. The twist at the corner of his mouth and the bright look in in his eyes gives Castiel more hope. If it hadn't gone well, if Gabriel didn't believe that Dean was good for the colony or for Castiel, then he wouldn't be looking as pleased as he does.

Or he could just be playing some kind of horrible trick to make him think that. Gabriel has always had the habit of being misleading. Right now, Castiel chooses to believe that he wouldn’t play with him during such a crucial moment.

There is no preamble or warning for when Metatron starts. Dean gives a loud gasp and he flinches hard against Castiel side, the hold on his hand going tight enough that it hurts. Castiel can feel the bones in his hand grind together and he hisses through his teeth, baring them at the scruffy, white face tilted out of the water. The heavy breathing against his shoulder is rough and broken with little noises that sound too much like pain for Castiel's liking.

He growls and his other hand goes to the hilt of his sword. Metatron is _hurting_ Dean and Castiel will not allow it to happen anymore. Even though he is blocked from Metatron's mind in the kin-connection, Castiel has given plenty of physical warnings to let him know to stop. Before he can move, Dean twists and places an arm over his chest to keep him from diving into the water.

“No, Cas, don't.” He still sounds pained, but his body is more relaxed now. “It's fine. Just wait.”

 _(Don't interrupt, Castiel.)_ Michael warns him, swimming close to the side of the boat. _(Metatron isn't done just yet.)_

_(He's hurting Dean!)_

_(It was necessary.)_

Castiel's back-fans flare, pulling the blanket off his head as they catch in it. _(I told you-)_

 _(It was necessary, Castiel. Metatron is done with the pain now. Leave him be and he will finish sooner.)_ Michael's thoughts are hard and they're not the chastising of an older brother. They are the command of the colony leader and Castiel's fans fold submissively almost immediately. He’s been conditioned his whole life to respond to the leader of his colony under all circumstances.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” Dean repeats, pulling the blanket back up over Castiel's head. “Just wait.”

Waiting is making his stomach twist and worry tightens his throat to the point where it's almost too hard to breathe. Metatron is taking twice as long as Gabriel did before and Castiel doesn't know what he could possibly be doing that would take this long. Maybe Dean really is telling him a story? Castiel can hazard a guess at what Gabriel would have looked for when it comes to searching Dean's mind.

Gabriel deals out the punishments in the colony. When the council decides that someone is guilty of a crime, Gabriel is given the task of choosing an appropriate punishment by looking into the mind of the fin-kin – if he doesn't already know them well enough. He was the one who decided that Castiel would have a rotation-long exile and that is something that Castiel will never be able to thank him enough for. It was all the time needed for him to fall for Dean all over again.

When looking into Dean's mind, Gabriel should have been looking for his sins – for the things that make him feel the guiltiest and what he would deserve to be punished for. When it’s Michael’s turn, he will undoubtedly be checking for anything that he might consider a danger to the colony. The safety of the colony is paramount to the colony leader and Castiel is certain that that is what he will be focusing on.

With Metatron, Castiel has no idea what he'll look for. He’s the big question in all of this and it’s getting harder to hold still and not make him stop. Dean is still tense, but his breathing is even again and he isn’t squeezing Castiel’s hand so tightly anymore.

Castiel breathes a soft sigh of relief when Metatron ducks back beneath the waves, twisting out of sight. His attention is immediately devoted solely to Dean when he sags heavily into his side and Castiel puts his arm around his shoulders, making sure the blanket moves with him so Dean won't worry about bright-pearl’s light burning his skin. He coos soft noises until Dean lifts his head and gives him a tired smile. Castiel presses a kiss to his temple and runs his fingers through his hair. Physical comfort is one of the few things that he can give Dean right now.

“That was a hoot.” Dean mumbles, eyes closed as Castiel gently rakes his claws over his scalp, hoping to alleviate the pain in his head somehow. “Can Mike wait a little bit before he gives it a go? Shit – do you even understand that? Probably not. It’s too many words. Fuck – can Michael – wait – please.”

The last three words are ones that Castiel recognizes and knows and can easily determine what Dean is asking for. _(Dean asks if you can wait until he's ready again.)_ He turns to look back at the water, surprised to find less bodies beneath the surface than there were before. Even the kin-connection has less minds in it and Castiel is almost appalled with himself for not noticing that they left.

 _(I will give him a few minutes while I speak with Raphael.)_ Michael leaves the side of the swim-deck, curving deeper to where the dark, blurry form of Raphael is waiting. _(And stay out of his mind, Castiel.)_

Rather than touching Dean’s mind, Castiel turns his thoughts to his other siblings and where they are currently amusing themselves with trying to attach Gabriel's kelp-woven bag of sweet snails to the gift-belt in one of the loops in place of a weapon. _(Where did Metatron go?)_

 _(He left with a few of the guards and Lucifer.)_ Anna answers, each word lined with boredom. _(He wasn't comfortable with being so close to the surface, and Lucifer wasn't happy with leaving the colony unsupervised for so long.)_

 _(I have the feeling that our big brother is going to take even longer than Metatron did.)_ Balthazar interjects and he sounds just as annoyed with having to wait around – despite there likely being nothing better for him to do. _(I should have left with them.)_

 _(I'm glad that you didn't.)_ Castiel touches his thoughts with the fond warmth he has for his siblings. _(Thank you for staying with us.)_

Balthazar's warmth answers and he swims away from where Gabriel is still fighting with getting the kelp to stay secured to the loop of string where a sword would hang. Castiel leans forward to dip his hand into the water and touch Balthazar's back-fan as he passes beneath them, even brushing against Dean's feet as he does so.

 _(You were the one who came after me before. You stayed with me and freed me and I haven't paid back that debt. Not to mention that you're my brother and my best friend.)_ Balthazar passes under them again, this time close enough to the surface that his back-fan breaks the waves. _(I may not trust the two-tails, but I trust_ your _two-tails. He's a good one.)_

Castiel's smile is wide and bright when he looks back to Dean. Just knowing that at least one of his siblings likes his mate makes him very happy and he reaches up to tilt Dean's face toward him, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. Dean makes a quiet noise and opens his eyes briefly before closing them again and pushing back into the kiss. It's soft, sweet and Dean looks happier for it when they pull away.

“Just the pick-me-up I needed.” Dean grins, gesturing out at the water. “I'm ready.”

 _(He's ready if you are.)_ Castiel touches gently at Michael's mind. He's still blocking Raphael almost completely. If he wasn't certain that there is a simmering hatred and rage on the other side of the wall that separates them, he would drop it entirely just to know what Raphael is thinking.

It still takes a few minutes before Michael swims up before them. In that time, Dean goes into the covered side of the boat to use the bathroom and he returns with a cup that he uses to scoop water and dump it over Castiel's tail, not caring if the blanket gets wet. Michael watches, raised enough out of the water that the waves brush just under his eyes, as Dean takes close care of Castiel's fans and fins, even pouring the water over his head and his arms to make sure even his skin doesn’t get dried out.

 _(He cares for you.)_ Michael comments quietly, letting the walls separating his emotions in the kin-connection slip just enough that Castiel can feel his pleasure. _(Let us see if this would carry over to the rest of the colony.)_

Dean drops the cup in surprise when the kin-connection is made. Castiel is only aware of the link being formed through his own connection with Michael. After that, he's cut out completely as Michael severs it and leaves Castiel with nothing but the others in his head. Gabriel is still mostly blocking him from his mind, but that's understandable. If they talk, Castiel might learn something he's not supposed to know about Gabriel's feelings or thoughts on the matter and that's not allowed. He needs to keep his thoughts private until he shares them with the council at the meeting they'll be holding back in the trench once Michael is done with Dean's mind.

Castiel doesn't even know if he's going to be allowed to stay with Dean after this. Will the council want him to go to the deeps with them and wait there until he's heard their verdict? Or will he be allowed to remain up here on the boat with Dean? Should Dean return to the house or will they want him to stay here until someone – Castiel or Anna or Balthazar, maybe – comes to give him their answer? There are so many questions and he can't ask them of Gabriel, and Michael is busy with Dean.

Like with Gabriel, Dean barely moves and his breathing is steady – although his forehead is wrinkled with a frown and his eyes are scrunched closed like he's concentrating very hard on something. Castiel would give almost anything to know what's happening in the link between them.

What are they talking about? Are they even talking or is Michael just digging and searching? Did Dean talk with Gabriel? He said so many words after Gabriel was done, words that Castiel didn't understand, and he's not sure if they did or didn't. What about Metatron? With how long that took, he hopes that Dean offered the promise of a story or something that Metatron would find equally alluring.

Unsurprisingly, Michael takes the most amount of time. By the end, Dean's hands are shaking where he's holding Castiel's and there's sweat on his forehead and in the curve of his throat. Castiel takes the extra effort to keep his tail hidden under the blanket as he turns to twist it around Dean's hips, pulling him to lean fully against his chest as he holds him through the last of it. When Michael is done, he doesn't move but Dean lets out a loud sigh of relief as he goes limp in Castiel's arms.

He feels the kin-connection open when Michael joins it again, though he remains separated from it. _(We're done, Castiel. We will be return to the colony now, you included.)_

 _(Can I say goodbye to Dean?)_ He doesn't want to, but he knows he has to.

Michael looks up at steady-blue, glancing toward bright-pearl. She's resting high in the sky and Castiel estimates that it must be around midday by now. _(You may have an hour with him. Anna and Balthazar will remain to escort you back. The rest of the council and myself need to return to begin our meeting.)_

 _(Thank you, Michael.)_ Even though he knows that Michael is talking to him as the colony leader and not his brother, he doesn’t keep back the surge of fond warmth he has for him. Castiel isn't expecting the walls to slip again and the warmth to be answered before Michael ducks beneath the waves. _(What do you want Dean to do?)_

_(He may return to his home.)_

Castiel bites lightly at his bottom his lip as he watches Gabriel, Raphael and the remaining guards join Michael. _(How will he be told your answer?)_

_(We'll figure that out when our decision is made.)_

The blurred shapes disappear as they go deep and the kin-connection is severed by all of them before Castiel can ask any more questions. Anna and Balthazar don't actually stay for long either, leaving the boat to hunt for something to eat. It's just Castiel and Dean again and he can't help but like it like that, even going so far as to cut out his siblings again so he can focus solely on his mate. Carefully, Castiel reaches for Dean's mind. He doesn't like how Dean flinches at the touch and he nearly withdraws, but Dean grabs at the link and pulls, forcing it open before it's fully formed.

Another sigh of relief passes his lips. _(That's better.)_

 _(Are you alright?)_ Castiel fills the kin-connection with concern and warmth and hope, tracing Dean's mind like his hands do his body, sliding in comforting touches everywhere.

Dean shrugs and tilts his head into the rubs of his fingers through his hair again. _(A little worn out, I think. I don't want to do that again anytime soon. It's better when it's just you.)_

Castiel smiles and presses a kiss to his temple again. _(We have an hour to ourselves before Michael wants me to join the colony again in the deep. After that, he said you can return home and they'll figure out how they'll let you know their decision after it’s made.)_

“Okay.” Dean nods slightly, slowly pulling his legs out of the water. _(Let's get inside then. I don't want you out in this sun any longer than you have to be.)_

He takes a little longer to get to his feet than he usually does, and he staggers badly enough that Castiel refuses to let him pick him up. Despite preferring it when Dean carries him, Castiel only lets him help him over the wall that separates the swim-deck from the rest of the boat. He push-pulls himself the rest of the way and waits for Dean inside the covered half of the boat while he cleans up the blanket, the bag and his clothing.

Castiel is waiting on the cushioned seat that lines the majority of the wall when Dean finally shuts the door. Using his bunched up shirt like a pillow, Dean lays down with his head away from Castiel and his legs stretched out toward him. With a 'come here' gesture of his hands and an image of what he wants in the kin-connection, Dean directs Castiel in how he wants him to lay with him. He lays over Dean, tail curling to twist around a leg as he rests his head on Dean's chest and tucks his arms along his sides.

 _(How was it?)_ He asks after a few minutes. _(What did they look for?)_

“Michael said I'm not allowed to tell you.” Dean murmurs, his arms resting over Castiel's shoulders, one hand heavy on the back of his neck. “He said you’ll be allowed to know after they’ve made their decision – if you still want to know by then.”

Castiel frowns against the warm skin of Dean's chest. He hadn't expected that. He thought he'd be allowed to find out from him at the least. Having to wait until the council comes to their decision could be hours, maybe even days. He doesn't know how long he's going to have to wait or how long it's going to be before he'll see Dean – or if he'll even be allowed to ever see him again.

“Stop that.” Dean mumbles, his hand squeezing tightly over the back of Castiel's neck. “You're just going to stress yourself out.”

_(I don't want to lose you. Not again.)_

_(You won't.)_ He assures him, filling the kin-connection with warmth as his fingers start stroking down his spine. “Now don't make me say something stupid like how you'll always have me or whatever.” His voice turns teasing and Castiel lifts his head to see his smile. “I might cry.”

Castiel snorts and squeezes his leg in retaliation, pulling a laugh from Dean as his hand slides back up to his neck. The repeated touch to that spot reminds Castiel about the hickeys. The bruises might be gone by the end of the day if not by tomorrow morning and he's not sure when Dean will have the chance to renew them again. He presses a kiss to the nearest mark within reach on Dean's chest, allowing curls of desire to slide into the kin-connection.

That makes Dean's laughs stop rather suddenly and he lifts his head to look down at Castiel. “You wanna do _that_? Right now?”

He fills the kin-connection with the images of the hickeys in answer and the burn of Dean's thoughts immediately subsides. “Oh, you want to do that, not _that_.”

It takes him a moment to realize what Dean is referring to, the images he uses to translate his words are vague at best. Dean props himself up on his elbows and Castiel sits back on the curl of his tail to give him the room he needs to sit up himself. He turns to present his back and neck to Dean, looking down at his chest while he does so and touching the bruises that are already much lighter than they were yesterday. Castiel hates how quickly they disappear. He would much rather bear them permanently now that he's claimed Dean as his mate.

 _(Sorry.)_ Dean slips his apologies into their link as he puts his arms around Castiel's waist and presses kisses along his shoulder, working toward the back of his neck with the intent to renew the mark there. _(If I could and if you wanted it, I'd give you something more permanent.)_

 _(Of course I would want it.)_ Castiel keeps his chin to his chest and tries not to move when Dean nips lightly at the spot before he seals his mouth there and starts to suck. His fans flex at the feeling and he waits until Dean is done before continuing talking. _(By fin-kin standards, you're my mate now. If it's possible, I'd like to be your mate by human standards as well. What would that require?)_

Dean rests his forehead against the spot. “You'd have to be a registered citizen and everything to get the proper documents. But if you don't care about the bureaucratic bullshit, we could just have ourselves a little ceremony. Sam can officiate or something and we'll exchange rings or whatever.” He lifts one of Castiel's hands, his chin on his shoulder as he looks at his fingers, thumb rubbing where the webbing joins his skin. “Though I don't know how you'd be able to wear one.”

 _(It wouldn't be very difficult.)_ Castiel flexes his fingers, thinking about how Dean wears his mother's ring. _(I would just have to cut the webbing away from the finger the ring would be placed on and let it heal around the ring. I have no intention of ever removing it and even if I ever did, all I would have to do is cut the webbing again.)_

“That sounds painful.” Dean winces, covering his hand with both of his.

 _(It would be worth it.)_ Castiel shrugs and turns his head to bump Dean's cheek with his own. _(But it would still be just a material symbol of our bond. Like how I already wear your necklace. You carry so many of my marks that are permanent and I have none.)_ He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling the points and picturing Dean's teeth. _(How do you feel about biting me?)_

“That would be right up there with being as painful as cutting your webbing.” Dean frowns and he bares his teeth. _(I don't quite have your chompers here.)_

 _(It would be worth it.)_ He repeats, his adipose-fins rippling at the thought as anticipation starts to tremble under his skin. It would have to be a fairly deep bite for it to scar on him, and if it's not, it would have to be repeated a few times to stay – like the scarred markings of the council. _(That. I want that.)_

“Right now?” Dean leans away, taking his heat with him. “You're gonna bleed from it and you'll be going back in the water soon. What if it attracts sharks or something?”

 _(Anna and Balthazar will be with me and if you do it right now the bleeding will have stopped by the time I return to the colony.)_ Castiel twists back around to face him. _(It will have to be deep. Are you able to bite that hard?)_

Dean is chewing on his lip and he looks uneasy, eyes drifting over Castiel's shoulders. “I've never tried biting someone to break the skin. I don't like blood play and I've never done the whole 'marking' thing before you. It's just – I dunno? I could try, but I don't want to hurt you.”

 _(You won't.)_ He reaches out and closes his hand over the fresh scabs on Dean's shoulder. _(Remember how you wanted this last night? You wanted to have it to show the council that you were serious about me. That's what I want too. Please, Dean?)_

He shifts slightly and leans forward again to meet him for a brief kiss as he relents to the plea. _(Where do you want it?)_

 _(The same place as you. Generally that is what mates do.)_ Castiel smiles and tilts his head to bare the expanse of his shoulder and the curve of his neck. _(Do it as hard as you can and if the scar doesn't hold, we'll do it again later until it does.)_

Dean traces the area with his fingers first. “You sure you don't just want to wear a ring or something?”

_(I want to do that too as a symbol for your culture. But I want this for the council and the colony to understand that I am yours as much as you are mine.)_

He replaces his fingers with his mouth, finding the same place where neck curves into shoulder on Castiel's body that mirrors where he has his mark. Castiel forces himself to remain relaxed and he appreciates that Dean doesn't give him any warning before he bites. His teeth are blunt and it takes a much harder bite for it to break the skin, let alone to sink deep enough to scar. There's no cry of surprise or pain and Castiel digs his claws into the seat instead of into Dean, gritting his teeth to keep from making any noise.

Dean draws away sharply and spits on the floor, wiping his arm over his mouth and making a face at the taste on his tongue. If Castiel didn't already know that Dean dislikes the taste of blood, he might have been insulted by this reaction. His shoulder stings and there's blood smeared over the skin when he looks at it.

“Sorry, let me clean that and I've got some water proof bandaides in here somewhere.” Dean touches his arms gently before he gets up and starts going through the cupboards under the cushions.

Castiel doesn't mind. There's a heavy satisfaction seeping through him now knowing that he'll carry a physical mark of their bond. A purr rumbles deep in his chest as Dean sits next to him again, one leg folded under him as he opens the little white box and starts tending to the wound like Castiel did to his the night before.

“You're a bit of a masochist, aren't you?” Dean grins at him as he wipes away the blood and uses a liquid on it that stings and makes Castiel hiss, fans flaring in surprise.

He watches with interest as Dean lays a different kind of bandage over the mark. It's crinkly and not as soft on the top side as the one that he'd put on him last night. This one sticks to his skin on its own instead of needing the clear strips to hold down the edges. It's a little itchy, but Castiel can easily ignore it when he knows what's underneath it. The moment Dean has the box packed up and out of the way, Castiel slides forward into his lap and pulls him into a kiss that resonates with warmth and the purr that continues to rumble in his chest.

They get lost in kisses until Anna and Balthazar create the kin-connection with him, reminding him that the hour is almost up. Castiel groans and flicks at their minds with his unhappiness. Dean is warm above him where he's pressing Castiel into the cushions and his mouth is wet on his throat, tongue tracing his gills. There's a heat brewing in his gut and if they had another hour – half that, even – he'd be able to work that out and leave Dean satiated.

 _(I have to go.)_ He touches the thought to Dean's mind, leaving it full of his hate for having to leave now.

Castiel isn't expecting Dean to laugh and sit back with a smile. “Guess we should've tried harder for a quickie, huh? We'll save all that for next time.”

The kisses don't stop until they're out on the swim-deck, and even then they linger longer than they did inside, hands holding each other tightly. Castiel hates leaving when he doesn't know if or when he'll return. Even despite all his hope, Dean is of the same notion and he doesn't hesitate to fill the kin-connection with his reluctance to let go when he pulls away to let Castiel dive off the swim-deck.

 _(I'll be back as soon as I am able.)_ Castiel looks up at him from the water, his hands on the hard edge of the swim-deck. _(Michael said to wait back at home for their answer.)_

_(What if I want to wait here?)_

_(You can, but I don't know how long it's going to be.)_

Dean crouches, his elbows on his knees. “I'll wait here for a while. If I'm not here when someone comes up, then I'll be back at the house. How's that?”

_(How long is a while?)_

“A day? If the weather holds out, I'll stick around until it starts getting dark tomorrow. I'll spend the night out here and everything.” Dean shrugs and runs a hand through his hair while he looks up at steady-blue. “I've got a few notebooks stashed on the boat and I remember where I left off last night so I should be okay. Shit, I probably should've called Sam and Jess last night to let them know what's going on. I think I have a satellite phone on this thing, maybe I can reach them from here.”

_(If you do get a hold of them, tell them I said 'hello'.)_

“Sure thing. You stay safe down there and don't let them push you around.” Dean shifts onto his knees and bends over to meet Castiel for one more kiss. “Remember what I said.”

 _(I remember.)_ He smiles up at Dean before slipping beneath the waves and breathing water through his gills again. _(Either myself or Anna or Balthazar will come up to tell you what's happening tonight.)_

_(Got it. Bye, Cas.)_

Castiel fills the kin-connection with all the warmth he can before he lets it slip away completely. He has to fight the urge to keep checking over his shoulder as he follows his siblings back toward the deeps. The boat doesn't move and there's an ache in his chest at having to leave Dean behind like this again. Neither Anna, nor Balthazar, say anything about the bandage over his shoulder but they do glance at it repeatedly until Castiel relents and tell them what is under it.

It surprises him that they aren’t surprised by it, and he frowns at them when Anna swims happy loops around Balthazar, pleased that she’s won back the necklaces she owed him.

They're met at the edge of the trench by guards who escort him to the healers' caves again. According to them – which Castiel's siblings loudly object to – it's at Raphael's insistence that Castiel continue to be confined during these discussions. Even his weapons are taken from him again.

 _(He's convinced you're going to swim back to your two-tails and tell him all about the colony. I know he is.)_ Anna rages, beating her tail angrily as she swims ahead. _(If he wasn't on the council, I'd give him a taste of my claws he wouldn't soon forget.)_

 _(It's like he's acting as if he doesn't know you.)_ Balthazar is just as angry, his fury bubbling below the surface while Anna lets hers out. _(You've always been the model soldier. You've always listened and done what's best for the colony and that's not going to change just because you've taken a two-tails as a mate. You're still_ you _.)_

Castiel agrees with them, but at the same time he can understand Raphael's decision. If he was allowed, he would much rather wait with Dean in the boat than stay down here. As it is, he's not going to complain. Perhaps keeping to Raphael's ridiculous rules will help to make him understand that Castiel isn't going to fight until he has to. If they don't give him the choice, Castiel will return to Dean. If they ask him to choose, Dean wants him to pick the colony to save them from having to move. It’s simple in theory, but Castiel isn’t actually sure of what he would pick if he actually faces that situation.

The healers put him to work grinding ingredients into paste to add to their salves. Castiel is more than happy to help. Keeping his hands busy keeps his mind busy and he doesn't have to think about what the council is doing or what Dean might be doing. He sometimes catches himself thinking about what Dean might have included in his first book and what he's going to be writing in the second and that serves to entertain him a little more.

By the time evening falls, the council still hasn't come to a decision. He's a part of the colony's main kin-connection when the announcement comes that they're breaking for the night to get some sleep. Castiel calls for Anna and sends her to Dean with a message about what is going on so far.

He would have asked Balthazar to go with her, but at that moment he’s busy helping the miners with a slight infestation of glow snakes in their caverns. They're vicious creatures with big teeth and glows to attract their prey like Castiel's colony has. They're not considered edible by fin-kin standards – not enough meat and too many bones - but they're slippery to catch, fun to hunt and they make good bait for bigger, better prey.

Anna returns to him as soon as she comes back to the trench. She carries a message from Dean. It's not very long, and Castiel is amused by the memory she shares of Dean sleepily looking over the edge of the boat while they talked, a blanket around his shoulders and his hair mussed.

 _(Apparently he was sleeping and I woke him up.)_ She explains as she snoops through the shelves and holes of the cave, looking at all the different ingredients. _(He says that he spoke with his family and they wish you both the best of luck and they're mad at him for not calling sooner so they could have told you that directly.)_

 _(I'm not surprised. Dean says I'm very distracting and he forgets to do things when I'm around.)_ Castiel is smug when he shares this and Anna rolls her eyes at him, flicking him with her tail as she swims by.

 _(He misses you and hopes the council makes a proper decision soon. If you're going to be using me as a messenger again tomorrow, I want to get some sleep now. Is there anything else that you need, little one?)_ She stops at the entrance to the cave, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

He shakes his head and curls himself comfortably in the corner he slept in the other night. _(All I want is for the council to make the decision that lets me have my family and my mate.)_

 _(I'll pray to mother-sea for you.)_ Anna ducks back over to him long enough to press a kiss into his hair before she leaves with a quiet ‘goodnight’.

Castiel hasn't stopped praying to mother-sea since he returned to the colony. All he has is his prayers and his hopes. It's a fitful night's sleep for him and Castiel feels wearier in the morning for it. He's itching to stretch his tail and swim properly. Staying cooped up in the cave is tiresome and reminds him too much of being in Lilith's cage. He could probably leave if he wanted to, at least to get a breath of fresh water out in the trench – but defying Raphael's orders now would be detrimental to earning his trust.

Later that day, no one is expecting to hear in the kin-connection a pulsing beat of warning to the entire colony that a fight is occurring somewhere. For a moment, he thinks that the fang-fin have decided to give up on their peace pact and are attacking again. There's a brief flurry of chaos in the kin-connection as everyone tries to find out what is happening at the same time, turning to the shielded minds of the council for what to do.

Gabriel is the one who drops the barriers first, calling for warriors to come to the auditorium where the council is holding their meeting. Castiel reacts immediately. He is a soldier and it's his job to ensure the council's safety. The healers' caves are close to the auditorium and he can be there quickly – whether they want him to be a responder or not. There's more than just the council there. Most of Castiel's _family_ is there and if he can help protect them – with or without weapons – then he will.

The first thing he notices, before he's even reached the auditorium, is the scent of blood in the water. It's no surprise that Gabriel called for reinforcements. The smell could easily attract sharks. The last thing Castiel is expecting to see when he swims out into the gallery is Raphael and Michael circling one another, fans flared, glows dangerously bright, and weapons drawn. There's a gash in Michael's tail and Raphael's back-fans – double, like Castiel's – are shredded in places.

Lucifer has his own sword drawn, tail twitching as he watches the fight closely. Gabriel and Metatron are hanging back with the fang-fin emissaries, and all of them are watching. Only Lucifer looks like he's battling with himself not to join in. When he spots Castiel, Gabriel breaks away to join him.

 _(You shouldn't be here, Castiel. We're not exactly finished with our meeting.)_ He glances back when Raphael darts forward, slashing with his sword and following it with a swing of his claws. Michael twists out of reach, rolling away before curling under him and making a swipe at the end-fans of his tail.

_(You called for warriors. I am a soldier. What's going on?)_

Gabriel grabs his wrist and starts pulling him away. _(You should leave, now, before Raphael sees you. He might decide to start attacking you instead.)_

 _(What's happened? Why are they fighting?)_ He asks again, pushing his concern against Gabriel's mind and hoping that will be enough to get him to answer. _(I'll leave after I find out what happened.)_

 _(We finished our discussion and the final decision went to Michael.)_ Metatron answers where Gabriel doesn't, swimming up behind him. _(When he refused the offered time to think it over, Raphael attacked him, claiming that Michael is playing favourites with you and that he's going to doom the whole colony.)_

Castiel's fans flare in surprise, joy spiraling through him at this news. As bad as it is that his brother is fighting for his position and his life, he still considers this good news. Michael's decision must have been obvious enough for Raphael to object so strongly and Castiel can't help being pleased to hear it. He'll have to wait for the official announcement before he can go tell Dean, and that’s only if Michael wins.

 _(Are we going to help him?)_ Castiel asks, gesturing toward the fight. _(There must be something within the council rules about fighting between the members.)_ Only council members are privy to all the different subtleties that come with being a part of it.

Metatron shakes his head, arms crossed over his broad stomach. _(Raphael challenged Michael's leadership. If he wins, he can claim the position of colony leader unless one of your bloodline wants to fight him for it. If he loses, Raphael's fate will be determined by Gabriel.)_

 _(If he's not dead, I'm going to exile his tail from our territory permanently.)_ Gabriel says bluntly, glow brightening dangerously as his fans flare. _(He's doubted and resented our family since we joined the council and he's always been in it for himself. Our discussion was sound and the rest of us agree with what Michael's decision will be. Even_ Lucifer _agrees with it – and that says a lot.)_

Castiel has to fight with himself not to laugh and swim in happy spirals. He has full confidence in Michael's fighting abilities and he can't even remember the last time he saw Raphael actually in a fight. He's older than them by a few generations and even though he was a fine warrior before he joined the council that might not be enough to win him this fight. Rather than leaving, he dims his glow and keeps himself hidden behind Gabriel others, watching over their shoulders so Raphael won’t notice him.

It quickly becomes apparently that the fight is uneven. Michael might not be physically stronger, but he is far more agile and much faster than Raphael. He ducks and rolls and twists neatly out of the range of every attack, darting back in before Raphael can recover to deliver his own blows. They're not devastating attacks, he's not trying to cripple Raphael, but each hit is a precise blow that makes it harder for him to move.

The fight is over before most of the colony has even gathered to watch. Michael is not without his own wounds, but a clawed swipe to the back of Raphael's hand makes it nearly impossible for him to hold his sword. He knows he's beat and he surrenders, dropping his weapon and sinking to the floor of the auditorium to bow his head and breathe raggedly, trying to catch his breath.

Michael orders soldiers from Castiel's garrison to escort Raphael to the healers, announcing for all the colony to hear that when Raphael is fully healed then Gabriel will deliver his punishment for his shameful behaviour and the decisions he's made that would put the colony at risk.

 _(I would have saved the colony!)_ Raphael hisses as he's surrounded by soldiers. _(Your decision is going to bring the two-tails down upon us all! Our very way of life is at risk!)_

 _(No, it's not.)_ Michael sits on his column, looking down at Raphael with every bit of the power his position within the colony gives him. _(If you had looked into Dean's mind like we did, if you had actually_ listened _when we shared our memories of what we saw and the answers he gave to our questions, then maybe you would be able to get past your selfish bias.)_

 _(I hate two-tails as much as you do.)_ Lucifer points out as he and the rest of the council take their places on their columns too. _(But even I can see that Castiel's relationship with Dean is an asset to the colony. Having a two-tails with the connections that Castiel's mate has will help us in the future._ We _are thinking about what is best for the colony._ You _are thinking about what is best for_ you _.)_

Pride for his brothers burns brightly in Castiel's chest and he can barely restrain how happy he is with this decision. Anna crashes into him, Balthazar close behind her as they crow their joy for the announcement. Castiel stops holding back then and he raises his voice in a joyful song that they join quickly, ignoring Raphael's outrage as they swim in an upwards spiral around each other.

For formalities sake, Michael gives an official statement of his and the council's decision. Some members of the colony don't share in Castiel's joy, but many are just as pleased and it's nothing short of a celebration as Raphael is escorted from the auditorium. Michael excuses himself too, needing to seek healing as well. He leaves Lucifer to deliver the last of their decision.

It's like a dream and Castiel can hardly believe it's really happening as Lucifer takes him aside. He can barely remember listening to Lucifer explain to him what is expected of him in the coming times. It's just as he had suggested to them the night that he'd returned from his exile. He can live with Dean in their home in the cove as long as he returns for his duties and if the colony ever calls on him. They haven't quite decided if they're comfortable letting Dean keep the boat above the colony if he wants to spend the time between Castiel's sentry shifts with him, but they'll discuss that when it comes to it.

Castiel is more than happy with what they've given him already and he swims excited circles around Lucifer before hugging him impulsively. His relationship with Lucifer isn't nearly as close as it is with his other siblings, but Castiel still loves him all the same and he’s delighted when Lucifer returns the hug tightly and encourages him to go share the news with Dean.

The last time he swam this fast, Castiel had been swimming for his life. Now it's excitement that spurs the beat of his tail and he doesn't resist holding back his voice either, singing loudly as he heads in the direction of the boat and hopes that Dean is still there. Even if he isn't, he's so happy he wouldn't be surprised if he could hold this speed the entire distance to the cove. When he sees the boat, Castiel checks to make sure there are no others around before he goes straight for the surface, breaking it like the sea-giants do and shouting Dean's name in the short space of time before he crashes back under the waves.

He isn't even at the boat itself before Dean is in the water too. Castiel swims around him in tight, dizzying circles, continuing to sing even once the kin-connection slides into place between them. Dean takes a great breath of air before Castiel grabs his hands and drags him around under the boat like he would as if they were swimming in the cove.

There's no need for Castiel to explain. Dean is radiating his own delight that burns so brightly it nearly outshines the intense light of the warmth that fills the kin-connection. They wait until they're back on the boat before Castiel drags him down into a hard kiss full of everything he feels right now. He can still hardly believe this is really happening. He gets to have the colony, he gets to have Dean, and he gets to keep _this_. All of it. It's everything that he's wanted for seasons and never thought he would be able to have and now he does and it's so hard to believe that this isn't some dream he's having in the healers' caves while he waits for the real decision.

But Dean is here. He's _real_ and warm under Castiel's hands, mouth wet and pliant against his. Castiel has long since learned how to tell the difference between the Dean he's seen in his dreams and the Dean he knows is real. His smiles are what breaks the kisses and he laughs when Dean pulls a blanket down from where it had been drying draped over one of the seats on deck, tugging it over Castiel's head. Dean lifts him from the floor to sit in the chairs closest to where he stands when he steers the boat and Castiel curls his tail around Dean's leg, the end stroking over the blue tattoos of his glow-pattern.

There's a rattling-rumbling noise when Dean flicks the switch that recalls the anchor from the deep. Castiel watches everything that he does as he pushes buttons and turns things until the engine roars to life and makes the whole boat vibrate under him. The solid thump of the anchor locking into place is the precursor to Dean pushing a handle up and making the boat move forward.

He looks over his shoulder at Castiel and his smile grows just like the warmth in the kin-connection. Castiel matches him smile for smile and warmth for warmth, filling them both with all the love that he has. He's waited for six seasons – for three years – to say what he does next and he squeezes his tail around Dean's legs as he touches the thought against the bright edges of his mind.

_(Let's go home, Dean.)_

 

 

  
**Fin** _  
_

(epilogue still to come)

 


	52. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve been reading the kids their bedtime stories, and you finished the last Harry Potter a few weeks ago.” Dean mumbles, pressing his cheek against Castiel’s gills. “I think you’re ready for them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to put here. I could link you to all the things I usually do, but I feel that with the epilogue, that's not altogether necessary anymore. 
> 
> All that I really want to say is **thank you**. Thank you to the old readers and the new. To the ones who left OotD for a while and came back. To everyone who stuck with us to the very end. The ones who drew fanart, who made fanmixes, who took the time out of their day to add to this wonderful little findom within a fandom that I never - not once - ever thought would come of this fic.
> 
> OotD has brought so many wonderful people into my life. Because of it, because of you wonderful readers, I actually have confidence in my writing and myself. OotD and its readers, you amazing people, have changed my life for the better and I will _never_ forget this insane year of maintaining weekly updates through thick and thin.
> 
> As some of you may know, I am planning on trying to get OotD published. I will be fixing it up for that over the next little while and until it's ready to be submitted to a publisher or self-published, I will leave it here. This is a rough draft, I suppose. Thank you for reading it and giving me the courage to move forward with one of my life's dreams. 
> 
> Just. _Thank you_ for everything. I couldn't have asked or dreamed for more.

Castiel has lost count of how many times they’ve been like this now. He can remember all the places in their home that they’ve gotten lost in each other’s bodies and all the different positions they’ve tried. But the number lost relevance when Castiel realized that there was no limit to the time they have together now.

Even after four years that realization hasn’t lost its luster.

Every morning when he wakes up – whether it’s when the alarm sounds for them to wake up and dampen his scales, or when bright-pearl streaks through the curtains enough to rouse them – Castiel still relishes opening his eyes and finding Dean _there_. Most mornings they’re tangled together, his tail twisted with Dean’s legs and one of them mostly laying on the other. Some mornings they wake on opposite sides of the bed – although there is _always_ some point between them where they’re touching. Rarely does he ever wake up to find Dean already out of bed, and even then he isn’t very far – either in the kitchen, the bathroom, or sitting at his desk.

Not even swimming with Dean has grown old. Whenever he jumps from the deck into the cove, whether it’s with the long-hosed breathing apparatus Dean made himself, or just for a quick morning stretch, it’s always so much _fun_. Dean never ceases to be amused by Castiel’s excitement or his pure joy at having Dean in the water with him. They usually spend at least a few hours a day swimming or floating together, not even needing to talk to enjoy the company they share.

There are so many good moments between them that Castiel refuses to pick which he likes best. He loves the swimming, the cooking, the learning and teaching, the lazy moments napping in the bed while Dean is busy writing at his desk, and even the moments when they’re not together – like when Dean is upstairs in his workshop and Castiel is downstairs practicing his reading and writing.

Castiel even loves the moments that they fight, though those are few and far between – there isn’t much for them to fight about alone in their cove. Sometimes it’s about how Dean has a penchant for eating bad foods – something that Castiel has been well educated in now that he spends more time with Sam and Jess. And though it hasn’t happened often, sometimes they fight about the times that Castiel volunteers to do more around the colony. Castiel only does that when he feels like he hasn’t been contributing enough to them or his garrison.

Perhaps there is one moment that he does like better than all the others. The moment when they’re like this, so tangled up in one another it’s hard to find the point where one ends and the other begins. The moment when he has Dean’s mind and his body. No matter how many times they have sex, it’s never the same, it’s never boring, and it holds the same wonder for Castiel as it did the first time. He especially enjoys how Dean’s hands are always too warm when they touch him, but there’s always one cool point of metal – the ring he wears on the third finger of his left hand, matched by the one that Castiel wears in the same place.

It had taken weeks for Castiel’s webbing to reconnect itself and grow back around the ring, and it had been worth it. Rather than pinch and fold the adipose-fins along his tail like he used to when he was thinking or nervous, Castiel likes to twist the ring instead, turning it around his finger. When they’re lying together on the couch, either watching a movie or reading, sometimes Castiel catches himself tapping the ring against the pendant he still wears around his neck.

He likes how the pendant is a hard point between them, digging into his skin just below his collarbone whenever he presses against Dean’s back or front, his chin hooked over his shoulder as his fingers leave bruises on Dean’s hips. They keep his claws filed short and blunt especially for the moments when they’re together like they are now, so he doesn’t leave jagged scratches on Dean’s skin.

“Cas.” Dean grunts, pulling at his wrists where Castiel has them pinned to the bed by his shoulders.

“Yes, Dean?” He answers, words mumbled against his pulse.

Castiel is much better with speaking English now, but he doesn’t often speak verbally. Speaking out loud is reserved for when they have guests, so he doesn’t have to have to focus on holding the kin-connection with multiple minds. And he speaks when he and Dean are alone like this, knowing Dean likes the rough sound of his voice – though he uses both his own language and Dean’s when he talk. It’s always automatically translated through the kin-connection anyways, unblocked and open so wide between them that Castiel thinks this is as close to the bond as they’ll ever manage to have.

“Would you _hurry up_ already? We’ve got an hour and a half before they’re gonna be at the docks.”

He hums and rolls his hips slowly, pushing into Dean a little deeper than he did before and enjoying the way Dean’s body tenses under him. “No.”

The annoyed edge that flickers through the kin-connection is weak at best and Dean bites his lip to muffle a groan when Castiel does pick up the pace a little more. He moves with sharp, snapping motions that force Dean’s breathing to change, coming in quick little gasps. His back-fans rustle and flare and he smiles against Dean’s skin.

 _(If you want us to finish soon-)_ He starts in the kin-connection, lifting his head to press kisses up Dean’s neck to his ear. “- then you should come.”

Dean groans and his legs squeeze around Castiel’s waist, his head tilting back into the pillows. “Son of a _bitch_. I _would_ if you would just let me – if you would _stop teasing_ and _touch me_.”

“No.” Today Castiel spent ages bringing Dean to the brink of orgasm a few times before he even let himself unsheathe. He’s well aware that they’re going to have guests in a few hours, but it’s about time that he tried making Dean orgasm without actually touching his penis again. It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that this happened to fall on the same day that Sam and Jess are bringing the twins to visit.

“Fuck – Cas.” Dean twists his hips, trying to rub his erection against Castiel’s stomach. “This isn’t – would you just – _goddammit Cas_.”

He sits back on the curl of his tail, pulling Dean’s arms down to keep them pressed to the bed. “No.”

Dean moves beyond words, filling the dark of their bedroom with the noises he tries to keep muted in the back of his throat. Castiel will have none of that now and he makes sure that Dean knows it, letting go of his wrists to hold his hips at the best angle, having memorized it long ago. A growl reverberates in his chest the moment Dean’s hands move to touch himself and he pulses warning into the kin-connection. There’s no need to put into words the threat that he’ll stop entirely if Dean tries to stroke himself properly.

Castiel is well aware of the time. It blinks at him in easily recognized numbers from the table beside the bed. If he can make Dean come in the next thirty minutes, they’ll still have plenty of time for him to shower, change, and Castiel can make sure that everything is clean while he goes to pick everyone up at the town docks. They’ve got plenty of time and it’s already been a while since they started. If Castiel planned this right – and he’s fairly certain that he did – then Dean should reach his climax soon. He’s become well versed in Dean’s body over the last four years and he knows what to do to bring him the most pleasure.

Which is, perhaps, why he moves Dean’s legs from around his waist and starts guiding him to turn over. Dean makes a noise of protest, but he doesn’t hesitate to roll over onto his stomach. It’s takes no time at all for Castiel to reposition himself between Dean’s legs and push back into the burning heat of his body. This is a sensation he’ll never tire of and Castiel sets a steady speed as he rocks his hips to thrust into that heat, dropping a trail of kisses up Dean’s spine.

Now the sounds are muffled by the pillow Dean has between his teeth, but Castiel doesn’t mind that as much. He presses his forehead to the back of Dean’s neck, hands finding their way under his stomach to ensure he keeps his hips angled off the bed. With Dean on his knees like this, Castiel can curl his tail around his leg and press the end in line with his tattoos. Of all the places on Dean that Castiel likes to touch, his tattoos are right up near the top of the list.

Castiel finds Dean’s hands again, stretching over Dean’s back to find them under the pillow. He curls his hands over them, pressing his fingers into the spaces between Dean’s own and squeezing. His mouth finds the rough scars of his bite mark, white against Dean’s tanned shoulders from untold hours in the light of bright-pearl.

He knows the human words for things, but Castiel prefers using his own. They’re familiar and he only needs the human words when he’s talking to those he doesn’t have the kin-connection with – like  Bobby, Ellen or Jo on the computer. Here, in their bed, Castiel doesn’t need his words or human ones. It takes nothing more than a thought or a touch to have Dean turn his head for a messy kiss that he pulls away from too quickly to bury his face in the pillow again.

The kin-connection is full of the building heat, growing larger and burning through the channels that join their mind. That scalding warmth they feel for one another covers everything, a constant tidal wave that only adds to their arousal. Knowing that even after four years he’s still able to make Dean feel like this is an intoxicating feeling. He puts his lips to Dean’s ear and murmurs three words and his name. He surrounds each one of them with the warmth that makes his chest feel too tight and too loose all at the same time.

Dean’s breathing hitches and Castiel suspects his timing might have been just right. He drags his teeth over the shell of Dean’s ear, whispering a list of everything he loves about him – from the way Dean sometimes snores at night, to how selfless he is when making sure that Castiel is properly cared for. Castiel is only halfway through his fifth point in the list when Dean’s body tenses, tightening around him and under him. The surprised groan he muffles against Dean’s neck is matched by the gasping moan Dean stifles with the pillow.

It takes a little longer for Castiel to reach that threshold. He doesn’t break rhythm, not even when Dean twists to put his hand against his chest and pushes at him. There’s a loud pulse of warning from Dean in the kin-connection, but it’s lost to the welcome familiarity of the buzzing white that fills Castiel’s mind. He stills over Dean, his forehead pressed to the back of his neck as he gasps for breath, fans flexing sporadically until his arms give out and he drops full onto Dean.

 _(You’re an asshole.)_ The words come through the kin-connection and are muffled by the pillow.

Castiel hums and almost lazily pulls out as he rolls to one side. _(But you love me.)_

The agreement that begrudgingly blazes through their link is at odds with his words. “Just because we don’t _have_ to use one anymore, doesn’t mean we _shouldn’t._ ” He lifts his head from the pillow to glare at him, grumbling unintelligibly as Castiel presses kisses to his shoulder.

It’s a familiar argument they have every once in a while, since Sam and Jess finished running the tests that gave them the okay to not have to use a condom anymore. Dean always gets grumpy about it, especially if it’s before guests are supposed to arrive and even more so if Castiel promised to pull out. He certainly didn’t make that promise today and they’re both well aware of it.

“You’re cleaning the sheets while I shower all your spunk out, you bastard.” Dean grumbles, shoving Castiel aside almost playfully as he gets to his knees. He drops the pillow over Castiel’s head. “Get the rest of the laundry too.” The laughter that bubbles in his throat earns him another pillow to the head as Dean climbs over him to get off the bed. “If I walk funny in front of Sam, _you’re_ the one who’s gonna have to explain why.”

 _(I take no issue with that.)_ Castiel grins at him over the edge of the pillow, amused when Dean raises his middle finger over his shoulder as he goes into the bathroom. It’s a well known fact in their family that fin-kin have different boundaries than humans do concerning what is and isn’t appropriate.

He stretches in a clean space across the bed, sorely tempted to simply remove the sheets and curl up in the pillows for a nap until Dean comes back with the others. There won’t be a chance for a nap afterward and he always likes to sleep after a good orgasm.

 _(Don’t you dare.)_ Dean reprimands him through the kin-connection, the shower starting up in the bathroom. _(Remind me again how many of your family are coming today?)_

 _(All of them.)_ Castiel sighs and stretches one last time before he sits up to start removing the pillow cases. The only ones not coming are Kali and the young ones, since they’re too young to leave the colony yet. It’s just going to be Castiel’s siblings while the colony is left in Metatron and Hester’s hands – she’s been on the council since Raphael was exiled.

The pillows go over the side of the bed and the cases go toward the center. It takes a lot of sliding around the bed and over the sheets to untuck all the corner and gather them up. He pulls his wheelchair to the edge of the bed and slides easily into the seat, tail curling in the bucket. From there he gets the basket of Dean’s dirty clothes from the closet and adds the ball of sheets to it.

Dean is just getting out of the shower as Castiel starts loading everything into the washing machine. He’s not expecting the kiss to the top of his head as Dean gets a towel from one of the shelves. “I’ll redress the bed. Can you make breakfast?”

 _(What do you want?)_ He looks over his shoulder as he turns the chair toward the hall door, watching Dean dry off with one hand while he sets out the toothbrush holder for their coming guests.

“Scrambled eggs and toast, please.” He doesn’t even look up from tucking the towel around his waist and preparing his own toothbrush. “I’m going to leave after breakfast. You coming with?”

 _(I have to wait here in case the others show up earlier than expected. They should have left when bright-pearl rose.)_ Castiel busies himself in the kitchen, moving with the surety of someone who has done this many times before. Cooking the foods that Dean likes has been one of Castiel’s most favourite things to learn over the last few years and even though he doesn’t eat the majority of what he cooks, making things for Dean is something that he enjoys doing.

He cleans the kitchen up while Dean eats and makes sure there’s no notebooks or anything laying around in the living room. Dean does one last check on the rooms upstairs before it’s time for him to go. Castiel holds his arms out for Dean to lift him from the chair the moment he comes back down the stairs. After four years of carrying Castiel around, there’s no strain for Dean to pick him up and no stumbling as he carries him outside.

Castiel stays on the boat with him until they reach the other side of the cove wall. It’s a long kiss goodbye before he slips from the boat to hunt his breakfast in the waters and wait on the other side for his family. It will be an hour, maybe two, before Dean returns. They’ve been planning this little ‘party’ for weeks and it had taken Castiel _months_ to convince all his siblings to come together.

Lucifer and Michael have only been to the cove a handful of times and this will be their first time meeting Sam and Jess. Gabriel returns with Castiel every time he comes back from his sentry rotation, just to see what new kind of candy Dean has for him. They have a whole drawer in the kitchen devoted to the sweets they keep for him.

Anna and Balthazar visit much more regularly, coming by at least once a week if only to sit in the living room and see all the human things that Castiel has grown accustomed to in his day to day life. All the little things that he barely even thinks about when he uses them are still so new and wondrous to siblings that it almost makes him laugh sometimes when they watch him write their names or he puts in a DVD and explains to them what’s happening – playing the part of the translator.

Today’s party is a celebration. Dean figured it all out and today is the anniversary of the first day they met. From here Castiel knows the anniversary of the first day they kissed, the first time they had sex, to the first day that he told Dean he loved him. He knows how to read a calendar now and he’s marked them all on the one that Dean keeps hanging on the wall next to his desk. He even did the math – and with a little help from Sam and Jess - found the anniversary of the day Dean found him again, and they day they decided they were mates. It’s all marked on the calendar alongside every birthday and Castiel puts them on every calendar they put up at the beginning of each new year.

He never had such focus on dates before, but Castiel likes it now. Having anniversaries and holidays and things to celebrate. Aside from bonding-ceremonies and the occasional celebration of a plentiful hunt, there don’t have anything like what the humans have and it’s still so interesting to him. Castiel doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of all the little things and the decorations. Dean doesn’t understand why Castiel likes decorating the living room when it’s just them there for most holidays. He doesn’t understand, but he doesn’t complain, and he always helps while the kin-connection is nearly filled to bursting over how much he enjoys it.

They’ve never expressly talked about it, but Castiel is almost certain that Dean hasn’t celebrated all the little holidays like this in a very, _very_ , long time.

While he waits for his family, Castiel stretches and swims in increasingly wider circles to and from the wall of the cove. He still gets plenty of exercise and sometimes spends half the day swimming aimlessly around the cove, but he does like to stop and purposefully push himself just to see if his calm lifestyle living safely in the cove has slowed him any. According to his garrison and how often he likes to train them during his off days when he’s at the colony for sentry duty, Castiel is still as good a warrior as he ever was.

With Hester on the council now, unable to be a warrior anymore because of the damage to her back-fans, Rachel is now his second in command and she directs the garrison when he’s home with Dean. It’s worked out well for everyone, even though there are still some members of the colony who oppose his relationship with Dean, whether because they’re both male or because Dean is human. Castiel knows who they are, but they don’t speak out or act out about it. As long as he maintains his family’s support, Castiel doesn’t mind if there are colony-kin who don’t like it. He and Dean are happy and that’s all that matters to him.

He feels the edges of the kin-connection searching for his mind long before he actually sees his siblings. They’re swimming close along the bottom of the wide channel between the islands, tucked along the side of the cliff. There’s warm greetings all around before Castiel takes them through the tunnel into the cove. It’s still small and only one of them can fit through at a time, but after a few of the miners had come to dig it out properly, it’s not so twisting and turning or tight in places.

Castiel leads them across the cove to the beach and the structures Dean set up the day before. There are tall poles sticking out of the water and along the beach with tarps strung between and hanging down their side them to give shade for the fin-kin. While Dean has been doing that, Castiel had dug depressions in the sand and used the excess to form little walls around one side of the low holes as places for his siblings to sit in and lean against. There are chairs for the humans to sit on and toys for Mary and Paul to play with. He even dug a pit and lined it with rocks for Dean to put a portable grill over so they can cook all the fish that Castiel caught before they went to bed last night.

And if they’re going to be out here even when it gets dark, Dean has lanterns with candles in them that he can light from the fire. Although Castiel doesn’t think that’s very necessary, considering his family _glows_. But the more light there is, the more comfortable humans are and Castiel completely understands that. Sometimes he feels too vulnerable in the dark when he returns to the colony and he misses the light of his home with Dean where he can see everything beyond the boundaries of his natural glow.

Dean brought out a table and it’s leaning against a few trees by where the forest starts. He’s got a box of board games and other things for the them to entertain themselves throughout the day. Though Castiel suspects that Sam and Jess are just going to ask many questions and his family will be the same. Even if some of his siblings act like they’re not interested, he knows they’re intrigued by the humans just as much as Castiel was at first – and to some extent, still is.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much convincing to get Michael and Lucifer out of the water and breathing air. Everyone picks where they want to sit and Castiel gets extra spray-bottles from the box of things Dean has by the table. Everyone gets their own in case they start to feel too dry but don’t want to go swimming yet.

Gabriel is just starting to get annoying enough for Castiel to seriously consider going to the crank-lift - that Dean built for him to get from the cove into the house without going up the stairs – so he can get him some a box of candy from the drawer in the kitchen when he hears the engine of the boat. Castiel leaves his family on the beach, swimming to the opening to wait for the boat and making the kin-connection with Dean the moment he feels out his mind.

It’s been ages since he made the link with Sam and Jess. It’s not necessary anymore since he understands their language more and more every day and he can communicate with them just fine. They still get the kin-connection for his siblings and that’s a weight off his mind. Having to play translator would be tiring and take all the fun out of the day for him. The only other humans that he makes the kin-connection are Mary and Paul. It’s easier to understand their sometimes garbled speech by reviewing their emotions and thoughts instead.

Jess called it a blessing when they were just infants. Back then Castiel would only have to lightly open the kin-connection with them to know why they were crying or being fussy and he could always calm them with gentle, soothing touches through their links. They were very well behaved infants while visiting and they came more often because of the leave they got to take from work – often spending whole weeks here. According to Dean, it was because they were scared of going back and not knowing what’s wrong with the babies and needing Castiel’s assistance.

Mary and Paul are already leaning over the edges of the boat before it’s properly in the cove, little hands waving excitedly. Castiel makes the kin-connection with them both, never tiring of their whirring minds and how similar they are to the minds of other nieces and nephews back at the colony. It’ll be another few years yet before Kali will allow the young ones to come visit. It’s a day Castiel finds it hard to wait for. He wants his whole family to meet each other and he’s sure Mary and Paul would adore swimming with Gabriel’s children – even if, by then, they’ll be much bigger than human children, even though they’re not very far apart in age.

Sam’s children have been taught since the day they were born never to mention _what_ their ‘Uncle Cas’ is. It’s a family secret and so far they’ve been very good about it. Castiel trusts them and he swims alongside the boat while Sam and Dean paddle it toward the dock, reaching up to just barely touch their hands before darting away, ensuring that he splashes them slightly as he does so.

They’ve met Anna and Balthazar before, but this will be the first time that they meet the rest of his siblings. Castiel foresees no problems with that. Michael may be a little awkward around children, and Lucifer seems a little cold to start with, but they’re both well loved by Gabriel’s sons and daughters. It might just take a little longer for Mary and Paul to grow as attached to them as they are the other. Gabriel can be a little mean with his jokes and tricks, but he’s still very good with young ones.

The moment the boat is docked, Dean is sent inside for the candy just to placate Gabriel. Sam and Jess deal with taking all their luggage inside while Castiel introduces Mary and Paul to his other siblings. He has to play the translator for them since no one wants to put too much strain on such young minds, but the children don’t mind. Mary wants hugs from everyone while Paul is a little more shy, he stays pressed against Castiel’s side, face hidden against his gills.

By the time Dean and the others get to the beach, carrying coolers full of food and drink, Castiel already has Mary and Paul out of their clothing, pleased to find they were wearing their bathing suits underneath. Anna helped him get the water-wings on their arms and she’s already out in the shallow waters, still under the shade of the tarps Dean set up. Paul is fascinated by her adipose-fins and Mary joins him soon after, pulling Balthazar along with her.

To Castiel, the rest of the day seems to go by in a blur. He’s back and forth from the water, helping Dean with the food or catching up with Sam and Jess. He listens to the conversations through the kin-connection while he plays with Mary and Paul. More than once everyone ends up in the water because Mary and Paul demand it and no one can say ‘no’ to them.

There are multiple times throughout the day that Castiel simply sits in the water, letting one of the children play with his fans or splash him with water, and watches everyone on the beach. He watches Dean laugh and tell jokes and stories. He watches his _family_ , almost fully complete, being happy and he realizes _this_ was worth everything. All the time with Lilith, all the pain and everything he felt for three years, all of it was worth it when this is the result.

Now that he knows what all of that earned him, Castiel wouldn’t change any of it. The smile Dean gives him and the bright wave of warmth in the kin-connection when he catches his eye makes Castiel think that Dean wouldn’t change anything either.

Dean says as much that night when Castiel’s siblings are settled at the bottom of the cove and Sam and Jess are still moving around in their bedroom after putting Mary and Paul to bed. He says it with the press of kisses to Castiel’s temple as he carries him from the bathroom back to their bedroom, and the love he fills the kin-connection with. He says it in his excitement as he gets a wrapped gift from one of the higher drawers in the closet, and the almost embarrassed way he hands it over.

“Happy anniversary.” He mumbles, sliding onto the bed to sit behind Castiel with his arms around his waist and his chin on his shoulder.

 _(But I didn’t get you anything.)_ Castiel twists to look at him, frowning slightly. They had agreed that since this was merely the anniversary of when they _met_ that they wouldn’t get anything for one another. Gifts were going to be reserved for when it was the anniversary of when they exchanged bite marks.

Castiel pulses curiosity at him when Dean just gestures at the books. He wastes no time in pulling off the paper wrapped around it and removing the lid. There are two books inside, both of which Castiel is familiar with. He’s seen them in several places around the house – always kept out of his reach on purpose until they had all gone missing over a year ago.

“You’ve been reading the kids their bedtime stories, and you finished the last Harry Potter a few weeks ago.” Dean mumbles, pressing his cheek against Castiel’s gills. “I think you’re ready for them.”

He fills the kin-connection with an excited delight as he takes the first book out of the box. Dean makes an annoyed noise, but Castiel ignores it in favour of opening it to the first page. He likes reading _all_ the words – the dedication and the publishing in formation, the prologue, the story, the epilogues, and even the information about the authors. He reads everything in and on a book, just to test himself and push the limits of his understanding when it comes to reading.

“I didn’t mean read them _now_.”

Castiel hushes him, skimming over the publishing information on the back of the first page. Directly across from it is the dedication and feels Dean’s arms go tight around his waist when he shifts his attention to it. He has to reread the words a few times, not because he doesn’t understand them but because he can’t believe that they’re there.

He drops the first book and grabs the second, skipping straight to the dedication page on that one too. It’s read just as many times as the first before he drops it and turns in Dean’s arms, not caring when he pinches his adipose-fins between them before he can wrap Dean in a tight hug and kiss the breath from his mouth as the words echo through the kin-connection, nearly drowned in warmth.

**_For Castiel – the love I lost._ **

**_For Castiel – the love I found again._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more for this verse! Keep your eyes open on my tumblr and on AO3 for Dean and Cas to come back in the fang-fin!AU and mini!verse. They're going to be whole new stories based around the fin-kin and their societies. 
> 
> You can see all the fanart [right here](http://riseofthefallenone.tumblr.com/tagged/ootd+fanart) if you want!


End file.
